


Tesoro Mio

by hushedtones, spinyfruit



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, F/M, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Sex, Internalized Homophobia, Lots of drama, M/M, Major Character Injury, Religious Conflict, Slow Build, Wine country
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2015-01-27
Packaged: 2018-02-15 13:10:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 106,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2230290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hushedtones/pseuds/hushedtones, https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinyfruit/pseuds/spinyfruit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Antonio’s the charming, handsome farmer with an infuriating Spanish accent, and Lovino is the mysterious wine entrepreneur who comes and goes. When Antonio falls in love, he throws society, expectations, and religion to the wayside, but can a strict Catholic like Lovino do the same?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Garnacha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Main pairing is Spamano, but there will be mention of some side pairings.
> 
> Each chapter will be titled with a different wine grape variety. Most of them will be Italian and Spanish, but if the focus of the chapter shifts to Francis, it will be French.
> 
> And...this will probably be updated every other week, but if I have a writing streak I might update faster. So at least every other week is what I'm saying.
> 
> Enjoy :)

_“Wine comes in at the mouth_

_And love comes in at the eye;_

_That’s all we shall know for truth_

_Before we grow old and die._

_I lift the glass to my mouth,_

_I look at you, and I sigh.”_

 

* * *

 

_Spring_

* * *

 

“So _mon ami,_ how is your job going? Anything new to report?” Francis glanced mischievously at Antonio over his red wine.

Antonio chuckled lightly and said, “I don’t think so _amigo_. I just tend to the plants. I don’t know anything about how they make wine.”

“Ah, well then you must get closer. Romance your way in,” Francis winked and Antonio laughed carelessly. “Didn’t they send two young girls to run the vineyard now? And they’re related to the founder. I say, if they’re pretty, go for it _mon cher_. They have enough money to set you up for life!”

“Haha, I don’t need to be rich. And I like being close to the earth, so I think this job suits me,” Antonio smiled and looked out the window at Francis’s expansive vineyard. It seemed endless.

“I must agree that you were always the most likely of us to be in a tree…or somewhere digging in the mud.”

“I don’t mind the mess. And I like the outdoors, so what can I say?” Antonio grinned and savored the feeling of the sun heating his skin through the glass.

“Yes, you’re lucky that you’ve found a job that supports you for that insane passion of yours. And you have me to thank, so don’t forget that _mon cher_ ,” Francis swirled his glass once before tipping it back and finishing the wine.

“ _Si_ , I suppose so. And the vineyard you sent me is _tan hermosa_ Francis! It’s not as large as yours, but it’s so incredibly perfect. I could live there forever,” Antonio sighed, and silently wished that he hadn’t left his job to pay his friend an afternoon visit.

But Francis seemed so lonely on the phone, he thought. Antonio had just wanted to cheer him up for a bit. But now, ay! How he wished he were back!

“Ah, I envy you Toni. You have such simple pleasures,” Francis shook his head and his gold hair glinted in the California sunlight. Then his eyes shined in remembrance and he asked, “Ah, you never said anything about the girls? What are they like?”

“Oh, actually they’re boys. And I’ve only met one of them. His name is Feli,” Antonio said and chuckled slightly at the memory of him. “He’s very sweet and funny, but I don’t think he knows much about business. Feli said his brother does most of the that along with marketing and sales, and he helps out with the wine production.”

“They’re boys?” Francis’s eyes widened in genuine surprise. He knew the new managers were young and Italian, and somewhere through the grape vine he had heard that they were girls. “ _Merde_ , I really need to leave this place sometime. I can’t keep trusting my Greek farmer for gossip. He’s too careless.”

Antonio smiled awkwardly, and ran his fingers through his curly, brown hair. He didn’t really know much about Francis’s farmers or the town either. He left his vineyard more rarely than Francis left his, so he didn’t know what to say. 

“But I guess, boy or girl it’s really all the same. What’s the brother’s name?” Francis asked as he wandered over to his large, silver fridge in search of another snack.

“Um,” Antonio held the syllable for a few seconds, trying desperately to recall what Feli had babbled to him about. “Oh, I guess I don’t know what it is, haha. Feli always refers to him as _fratello_ , so I’m not sure.” He shrugged and looked back out the window wistfully.

“You don’t know? Haven’t you seen him?”

“Nope. It’s just been Feli, the other gardeners, and me for the past two months. He says his brother’s away on business at their grandfather’s vineyard in Verona. The main one I think. I don’t know when he’s coming back.”

“Ah, then wait until both of them are here, pick one and then use him as your way into their secret formula,” Francis plotted playfully, and walked back to the table with a fresh bowl of red grapes.

“I already told you, I don’t know anything about wine,” he laughed and picked at one of the grapes. “I’d be a terrible spy for you. I’d probably mess everything up. Especially if it’s in Italian.”

“Hm, quite true. And I don’t want you ruining another batch of my wines like that other time,” Francis raised his eyebrow at Antonio and frowned.

“I thought adding a tomato would be fun! I didn’t know it would make it taste bad! Tomatoes never make anything taste bad!” He raised his hands and blushed slightly in embarrassment. He still owed Francis quite a bit of money for ruining that batch of wine.

But Francis only smiled casually in return, and said, “It’s fine _mon cher._ Gilbert thought it was rather funny and started putting potatoes in after you, so it’s not entirely your fault. If anything it might be mine for suggesting we drink wine before I show you how I make it.” Francis sighed and Antonio scratched the back of his neck with a nervous laugh.

“ _Ay, lo siento_ Francis. I really am. But I’m making money now with my new job, so I should be able to pay you back soon!”

“Don’t worry about it. At least now you have a job. Once it seems like you’re on the path to stable employment, then we can talk about settling debts. At least you’re trying…unlike Gilbert,” Francis rolled his eyes and ate a grape.

“Isn’t he helping his brother pay for school? Maybe he can’t afford to pay you back right now!” Antonio suggested and glanced at the large kitchen clock impatiently.

It’s already past four in the afternoon, and he had so many things to do before the sun set. And it’s a forty-five minute bike ride back to the _Tesoro_ plantation where he worked, so he needed to get moving fast if he wanted to help Berwald and Kiku set up the new growth.

“That’s what he says, but I know the truth. I know he’s finding another way to spend it. I just don’t know what it is,” Francis cupped his chin in his palm and stared pensively at the table.

“Ah, well maybe if you talk to him or – or if you visit his liquor store you can find out the truth!” Antonio suggested with a smile and hoped desperately that Francis would latch onto the idea with newfound passion and race out the door. It was always hard for Antonio to refuse his friends’ company.

“Perhaps I will,” was all Francis replied, and then he looked up. “You know Toni, if you need to go, all you need to do is say so. Don’t make me be the cause of your unemployment.”

Antonio breathed a sigh of relief and immediately backed his chair out across the wooden floor with a loud screech.

Francis winced slightly at the noise, but Antonio didn’t notice and said happily, “ _Gracias, gracias_ Francis! _Lo siento mucho,_ but it’s just that there’s so much to do these days and it takes so long to get back on my bike!”

Antonio skipped across the kitchen and snatched his sunglasses and keys from the counter. Francis followed him casually with a branch of grapes and held the front door open for Antonio to race out. As he always did.

“It’s no problem _mon cher_. At least you stopped by for a little while. Sometimes I feel as though I’m a princess locked away in a tower all the way out here. I miss the company of the city.” Francis leaned against the door dramatically and watched Antonio parade down the driveway to his bike rather enviously.

Antonio never seemed lonely somehow.

“Haha, really? I like how quiet it is out here. It feels so much more romantic and intimate,” Antonio laughed and looked out at Francis’ vineyard.

He took a deep breath and smiled. California always reminded him so much of _España_. He loved everything about it: the mountains, the vineyards, the fields the sun…it was impossible for Antonio to go back to the city after living here.

“Well, as always it seems as though you and I have very different views on romance Toni. Personally, I find it hard to find _amour_ when I’m tucked away in the middle of no where,” Francis frowned thoughtfully, and ate some of his grapes.

Antonio lifted his kickstand up and steadied himself against the ground.

“You just need to find _amor_ in nature Francis! Then you’ll never be lonely!” Antonio yelled happily and started peddling down the gravel driveway.

“Grapes may be nice to look at, but they’re not going to keep your bed warm at night! Remember that, _mon cher_!” Francis shouted back, but Antonio just waved at him and laughed again.

As Antonio took one last glance at Francis sighing at the doorway, he thought maybe if Francis knew what it was like to help a plant grow, then he would understand. There’s nothing like the feeling of helping and nurturing something else to make it feel strong and beautiful.

When he reached the steepest hill out of Francis’s plantation, Antonio picked up the pace, and after he reached the top, he let the bike coast down the hill and out into the winding road that led to the vineyard he worked at – _Tesoro_.

Feli explained to him that they’re actually based in Verona, but the founder, who is also Feli’s grandfather, started a little vineyard in Napa Valley too, among other places. It’s not as big as Francis’s vineyard, or some of the other plantations nearby, but Antonio thought it was by far the cutest, and with the happiest plants he’d seen yet.

When Francis called him up and said there was an opening for a farmer in Napa Valley, Antonio ran out of the little restaurant where he worked as a waiter, and never looked back at San Francisco. And once he stepped foot on the _Tesoro_ vineyard, he knew he’d found his dream job.

It was better than he’d ever imagined because not only was he able to work the land for the living, but Feli also put him and the other two farmers in the employee cottage next to the vineyard. Even with the company, it was still larger than the apartment Antonio was living in earlier, so he was very happy.

But the best part about living in that cute house was that as soon as the sun rose, Antonio only had to step outside, and he was in the best place on Earth. He loved waking up early and walking up and down the aisles and singing to each of the vines good morning.

And at dusk, he would take another walk before the light ran out and sing to each of them good night. Francis and Gilbert often told him how silly it was, and Antonio knew it might seem that way, but he liked to think that it made the plants happier.

After a long while, the familiar iron sign appeared around the corner and Antonio smiled excitedly. He was almost home now.

One he passed the sign, he knew it as only about ten minutes until he was back at the main house, and from there he could coast down the little dirt road to the vineyard and the gardener’s house.

When he biked by the main house he glanced up at the grand wood and stone cabin and admired how elegant it looked. He had always wondered what it looked inside, but whenever Feli offered him in, Antonio had always been too dirty or too busy to accept. So all he could do was imagine what was inside the magnificent, three story building.

However, right now there was something different. Usually at this time, it was just Feli’s room, the kitchen, the living room, and Tino’s room (the housekeeper’s room) lit at this time. But for some reason, one of the rooms to the very far left – the one with the little balcony that overlooks the vineyard, and the strong, unruly vine that wrapped around the iron railings – is lit tonight too.

Sometimes Feli had friends come over, so Antonio thought maybe another one came by. But they usually slept in the guest room on the right side nearer to Feli’s and Tino’s.

Antonio paused to stare at the house and wondered what was all alone on the left side. But he didn’t stay for too long before he remembered what was waiting for him to do, and he continued biking away.

He noticed that the vine near that room was becoming a bit too wild. He’d have to trim that at some point.

 

~/~

 

“Toni,” Berwald said and dropped his clippers to look at him.

Antonio parked his bike against the gardeners’ house and skipped over; sliding on the gloves he kept in his back pocket as he did so.

“ _Hola amigo_! Sorry I’m so late! Francis ended up wanting to talk for a lot longer than I expected,” Antonio laughed, and didn’t mind how Berwald’s face never seemed to budge its serious stare. “Did you have any trouble?”

“Not much,” Berwald muttered and plucked some of the leaves blocking the young grapes.

“Ah, that’s good! Do you want me to start mowing?” Antonio started moving towards the shed.

“Kiku’s ‘n it.”

“Oh,” Antonio paused and looked at Berwald. Maybe he didn’t need to rush back. “Um, well I guess I’ll tie some of the new growths then.”

“S’nds good,” Berwald said and didn’t notice Antonio skipping down the row of vines.

Antonio made it to the very end and turned around.  Then slowly and meticulously, he inspected each vine and checked to see if there were any new growths sprouting. If he saw any, he would take one of the wire ties he kept in the pouch tied to his belt, and fix it to the fence. If he saw any leaves blocking the sun from the young grapes, he plucked them too, and then moved on. It wasn’t a particularly exciting job, but it was necessary, and it needed to be done very, very often.

Once he was halfway down, he passed Berwald, but Berwald didn’t say anything and kept moving past him with his clippers.

The rest of the afternoon went on like that, as it did most days. When Antonio was wandering around one of the later rows, he ran into Kiku – or rather, Kiku drove by on the tractor, dragging the lawnmower behind him. But Antonio was only able to exchange waves and a few words before Kiku was traveling down another aisle.

It was really peaceful at this time. The hum of the lawnmower was one of Antonio’s favorite sounds. And now, as the sun was setting hazily near the horizon, the temperature was cool and fresh and the hard work seemed to slip away with the wind.

When the sound of the lawnmower stopped, Antonio knew it was almost time for the irrigation to turn on, so he wandered out of the vineyard and walked back to the house.

“ _Hola amigos_!” Antonio announced, and Kiku and Berwald both stared at him from the wooden picnic table outside of the house.

“Hello Antonio. How was your visit with Francis?” Kiku asked politely and took a sip of his tea.

“It was good!” He replied and sat down on the bench across from them. “Francis seems pretty lonely though. I think he might need to go to town.”

“I d’n’t like town much,” Berwald said and looked at Antonio.

Antonio laughed and replied, “Yeah, I don’t really like it much either. I’d much rather be here with you two!”

Kiku smiled slightly and Berwald kept staring at him. At first, Antonio was a bit confused at how quiet his new coworkers were. Especially since his two best friends were as outspoken and talkative as him. But after a while, he got used to it, and it didn’t seem as strange or awkward. Although Kiku said very little and Berwald said hardly anything at all – and what he did say was sometimes sort of odd – Antonio knew they were nice people. Just slightly bad at communication. That’s all.

“Ah, there’s Tino,” Kiku said softly and both Berwald and Antonio turned towards the road that came down from the main house.

Tino was walking slightly unsteadily down the dirt path, as he tried to balance a full pitcher and a few plastic cups while not slipping.

Berwald silently stood from the table and met Tino halfway, taking the pitcher from his hands without a word and walking back to Antonio and Kiku.

“Oh, th-thank you Berwald!” Tino said with a nervous smile and continued walking with him to the table.

Berwald set the pitcher on the table and sat back down.

“I made some lemonade for you guys! I thought you guys must be pretty tired,” Tino smiled nervously and Berwald began pouring everyone cups from the pitcher.

“ _Gracias_ Tino! That’s so nice of you!” Antonio grinned and immediately gulped down the drink.

His lips puckered slightly at the tang of it, but he didn’t have time to ask for sugar before Tino asked, “So, um, how do you guys like it? I’ve never actually made lemonade before. But since Feli keeps bringing lemons back from his trees, I thought I might as well do something with them.”

Once again, Antonio was about to say it needed more sugar, but this time Berwald was the first to speak.

“It’s g’d,” Berwald muttered without looking at Tino, and finished the glass quickly.

“Really?” Tino’s face brightened and he looked at Berwald excitedly. “Oh, that’s great! I’ll have to share with Feli and his brother then!”

“His brother?” Antonio asked and glanced in the direction of the house curiously.

“Oh yeah, you weren’t here, but Feli’s brother arrived today!” Tino said, and took the opportunity to sit down. Berwald insisted he sit next to him.

“Really? Will he come out and meet us or something?”

“Mm, I don’t think so. As soon as he walked in the house he went straight to his room. I’m sure he’s very tired from the flight.”

“That’s too bad,” Antonio sighed and cupped his stubbled chin in his hand. “Feli talks about his brother all the time. I sort of wanted to meet him.”

“Oh, I’m sure you will!” Tino said and smiled reassuringly. Then something occurred to him and he added a little less happily, “But, uh, he’s not much like Feliciano."

“ _Que_? What’s he like then?”

“Well, he’s a bit more…intimidating,” Tino said carefully and looked back at the main house.

Antonio didn’t say anything and just stared at the little balcony overlooking the vineyard and wondered how much more intimidating a brother of Feliciano’s could be.

 

~/~

 

When the irrigation turned on, Tino said goodbye and turned towards the main house to help out with dinner. Feliciano always cooked dinner, but as the housekeeper Tino insisted he should at least help with that a little.

Kiku went inside the gardener’s house to make dinner since it was his turn, and Berwald followed him to find some sugar for the lemonade. So Antonio was left alone on the picnic bench to watch the sun slowly disappear over the horizon. Since sunlight was growing sparse, Antonio decided to take his walk through the vineyard, so he stood up and started ambling down each row.

Softly he started to sing.

_Duermete mi niño_

_Que tengo que hacer_

_Lavar los pañales_

_Y hacer de comer_

_Este niño quiere_

_Que lo duerma yo_

_Duermalo su madre_

_Que ella lo encargo_

Antonio kept humming the tune as he finished walking, and stopped briefly to look out at the horizon.

 _Si_. He couldn’t imagine himself any happier than he was.

 

~/~

 

The next morning Antonio was the first to wake up, like he always was. He didn’t bother to shower, and just stumbled to his dresser to wear his usual farming outfit. He buttoned a green shirt, slid on some worn and ripped jeans, and bent down to tuck the ends into his boots.

Antonio spent a quick few minutes washing his face and fixing his curly hair into a reasonable look, then walked out of the little house and into the vineyard.

The sun hadn’t started to rise just yet, and there was only the slight hint of light reflecting through the thin clouds. Antonio took a deep breath of air, and with a smile he began walking down each row, singing softly as he went along.

He saw a few vines that needed trimming, so he stopped and removed the clippers he kept in his belt and hummed as he worked.

Then something crackled behind him, and Antonio turned around to see what it was.

He looked at the ground expecting to see a cat or a small animal, but instead he saw a very nice pair of shoes, standing in the other aisle. Antonio’s eyes peered through the young leaves, travelling up the young man’s body, until he met a pair of flashing gold-brown eyes staring back at him. At the moment the sun had already begun to shy over the horizon, and streams of bright, yellow light were dancing on the sides of the leaves. The light caught in those mysterious molten eyes, and Antonio couldn’t remember seeing anything so warm before. Warm as the sun.

When it seemed like the man wasn’t going to say anything, Antonio decided to speak up. “Um, _hola_!” He folded the clippers together and secured them back onto his belt. “My name’s Antonio, I work here.” He held his hand out through the gap in the vines and waited for the other to grasp it.

The young man looked at the dirty, gloved hand or a moment, and then crossed his arms protectively over his chest. “Lovino.”

“Lovino? Is that your name?” Antonio asked and pulled his hand back to his side. He watched the man’s slight nod, and grinned. “That’s such a pretty name!”

Antonio watched with some fascination how Lovino’s straight face quickly flushed in embarrassment, a hot blush blending with his olive skin. “It is not.”

Antonio laughed in reply, and deftly ducked under the vines into the aisle where Lovino was standing. He wiped the curls away from his face, smudging dirt onto his forehead, and stood up straight to get a clear look at Lovino. He was slender and tan, and too well dressed to be loitering around in the earth.

“So…are you visiting?” Antonio asked. The sun was shining directly on Lovino’s eyes, and they seemed so bright Antonio had to squint.

Lovino pursed his lips, almost in disapproval. “Sort of. But this is my house, so I wouldn’t call it visiting.”

“Oh,” Antonio gasped, and the pieces fell together. “You’re Feliciano’s brother, aren’t you? I guess you do look rather similar, it’s funny I didn’t notice.” There definitely was something familiar in the features, but Lovino came across so much differently than Feliciano. Somewhat intimidating, as Tino said, but also mysteriously compelling. It made Antonio want to get closer.

Lovino’s eyes remained unblinking, but his lips spread to a frown. “So Feli hired you?”

“ _Si_ , he did.” Antonio smiled, and Lovino shifted his weight uncomfortably. “I’ve been working here for two months now. I was wondering when I’d meet you.”

“Yeah, well,” Lovino mumbled and scratched the back of his neck. “I travel a lot.”

Antonio noticed Lovino kept all parts of himself as close as possible; he was very careful not to get too near Antonio.

“So, why are you up this early?” Lovino asked, breaking the silence. He didn’t like how Antonio could stare endlessly at him.

The question shook Antonio from his daze and he brightened. “Oh, I always get up at this time. Just to check on the vines and take a walk. I like doing that.”

Lovino pointed his chin at the ground as another blush warmed his skin.

“What are you doing up?” Antonio asked, and hoped Lovino would look at him again.

He didn’t, and just continued shuffling the dirt on the ground. “I have jetlag. It’s three in the afternoon in Italy.”

“Ah,” Antonio nodded his head in understanding, though it’d been so long since he travelled, he really couldn’t empathize much. “Have you been out here long?”

Lovino’s shoulders twitched and he gave Antonio a cursory glance before staring to the side. “Not really. I just wanted to get out before Feli would start dragging me around everywhere. He wants to show me the town since I didn’t see it last time.”

“Do you not like going to town?”

“I haven’t seen it yet, so I wouldn’t know,” Lovino snapped quickly, his eyebrows cross and his skin glistening.

The sudden outburst caught Antonio by surprise, but somehow he didn’t find it rude at all, and he laughed, a bit charmed actually. “You’re so funny, Lovi!”

Lovino’s eyes widened. “What’d you call me?”

“Lovi. Isn’t it cute?” Antonio tilted his head and grinned.

“No.”

“No?”

“No,” Lovino deadpanned and he pressed his lips together stubbornly. “You just said you thought my name was pretty, why are you trying to fuck it up?”

Antonio’s smile twisted in amusement, and he tried not to laugh again. “I just thought it’d be easier to give you a nickname. You can call me Toni if you like.”

“Tsk,” Lovino scoffed and ran his fingers through his neat, dark hair. “No way. You’re lucky if I call you by your actual name.”

“What does that mean?”

“That you’re a bastard,” Lovino said and turned on his heel. He started walking down the aisle back in the direction of the house.

Antonio giggled lightly under his breath and walked briskly to catch up. “Where are you going?”

“What’s it to you?” Lovino replied and jumped when Antonio’s arm grazed his shoulder. He glared at him and made an obvious show of creating a gap. “It’s my vineyard, I can go where I like.”

“Really? I thought it was family-owned.”

Lovino bristled. “I’m family, aren’t I?”

“Oh, _si_ of course. That makes sense,” Antonio placated and gave what he hoped was an apologetic, reassuring smile.

It seemed to work, and Lovino’s fingers unclenched from his palms. He gave a brief glance in Antonio’s direction, startled to find him still staring, and coughed on his breath.

“Are you okay?” Antonio asked, and placed a hand lightly on Lovino’s back.

“I’m fine!” Lovino said rapidly, and swatted Antonio’s hand away. “Where are you going anyway?”

“I’m following you!~” Antonio announced gleefully, flashing a bright smile. Perhaps he enjoyed Lovino’s blush too much, because already he felt a rush of accomplishment when it appeared again.

“Shit – I know that! But why? Don’t you have work to do or something?” Lovino gestured with his hands, before twisting them together embarrassedly.

“Well, it’s still early. We don’t do the usual grooming and inspection until a little later. Berwald doesn’t like getting up early,” Antonio said with a short laugh. “And before that I like to take a look at Feli’s garden.”

“ _Feli’s garden_?” Lovino repeated skeptically and raised an eyebrow.

Finding himself caught, Antonio’s eyes crinkled in a bashful grin. “Alright, maybe it’s not entirely his. But he wanted some flowers in front of the house, and I love to garden, so I offered to make one up for him.”

Lovino’s lips turned up slightly. “Don’t you do enough gardening?”

“Enough gardening? Why Lovi, there’s no such thing!” Antonio gawked and raised a hand to chest playfully.

When he caught Lovino’s quick smile, and the soft glitter to his eyes, Antonio’s chest swelled. It gave him a strange sense of happiness. It made his stomach light and skin tingle in excitement.

But in another instant, Lovino bit his lip and fixed his gaze back on the ground. “You’re an idiot.”

Antonio sighed wistfully. “No, Lovino. I’m just a simple farmer.”

“Well now I know you’re an idiot.” Lovino said and rolled his eyes.

At this point they were far up the road and only a few strides away from Feli’s garden. It was young and green, with a few colorful buds tucked away between the leaves. Antonio’s face lit up at the sight of it, his eyes attentive to all of the subtle growth and beauty. It made him proud.

Then on instinct, he turned his head to Lovino, desperate to see his reaction.

Lovino’s gold eyes danced over the garden, and Antonio thought he could see a pleasant softness smooth his face. He’d hoped that’s what he saw anyway.

But Lovino was quick to notice Antonio’s searching stare, and quickly jerked his head forward and continued his walk to the house. “Don’t get too cocky, bastard. I saw it yesterday.”

It pulled slightly on Antonio’s heart that Lovino walked away like that, but the biting words soothed him somehow, and he chuckled lightly. “Have fun in town, Lovi. I’ll see you later!”

As he held open the large, front door, Lovino looked over his shoulder back at Antonio. His eyes were sharp and intent, as if he was trying to scare Antonio away, but just the thought made Antonio grin back defiantly, another laugh ready on his lips.

Lovino eyes widened, and a blush crept to his ears. “Yeah right!” He yelled and let the door shut solidly behind him.

It might’ve been rude, and slightly childish, but for some reason Antonio’s stomach fluttered madly, and he laughed for no real reason. It took him a few minutes to remember what he was supposed to be doing.

 

~/~

 

A few hours later, the sun was high in the sky, everyone had long since arisen, and Lovino stood still by the kitchen window, the little hours of sleep finally edging away at him.

He was waiting for Feli to finish dressing so they could leave into town, and although last night he’d been dreading this, his encounter with Antonio made him want to leave now more than ever.

Lovino spotted the familiar tall, muscular figure talking to Kiku, and at once his eyes darted away from the glass. His fingers touched his warm cheeks, and he creased his eyebrows in worry. He didn’t understand why he felt so strange. It was a dizzying, intoxicating feeling to be near Antonio, and for some reason it made him want to hide and never see the charming Spaniard again. Or let Antonio see him again.

Which is why he wanted to hurry out the door now. His heart has been buzzing since he first met those green eyes, and he just wanted to escape.

Finally, after an agonizing ten minutes of alternating periods of staring out the window and ducking away to another corner of the room, Feli’s clumsy footsteps echoed down the stairs.

Lovino sighed in relief, and he stomped out of the kitchen.

“Vee~ sorry I’m late fratello! I had trouble deciding what to wear,” Feli giggled and straightened his flowery button-down shirt.

Lovino shook his head and through the keys at him. “And that’s the best you can do?”

“Oh,” Feli gasped as he missed the catch and picked the keys up from the ground. “We’re taking my car?”

“I figured my motorcycle might get a bit uncomfortable after the fifth store you shop at.”

Feli smiled shyly and followed Lovino downstairs to the garage. Their grandfather had bought them each the vehicle of their choice when they relocated to California to run the small branch of the brand, and while Feli decided on a yellow American T-bird convertible (because he saw them in the movies and they seemed so cute), Lovino opted for a classically Italian, black Ducati motorcycle. It might be his most prized possession.

He ran his hand over the shiny metal before resigning to joining Feli in the bright, happy car. Feli pressed a remote button he kept on the dashboard and the garage door lifted; and it wasn’t too soon until the T-bird was flying out the driveway, and onto the main road that led away from the vineyards and towards town.

Lovino exhaled freely on the open road. The strange pinches that tormented his heart this morning seized, and he tried to forget the rough, earthy Spaniard, and the dazzling green eyes that seemed wait on his every word.

“Feli,” Lovino closed his eyes in frustration, but tried to keep his voice careless. “Why’d you hire that Spaniard?”

“Oh, you mean Toni? You already met him? That’s great! I was wondering how I’d introduce you two,” Feli babbled happily. He caught his brother’s scowl and blinked in confusion. “Do you not like him?”

Lovino turned towards the window and savored the rushing wind. He wanted it to wipe away all of the electricity, all of the heat. He wanted to be cold.

“Lovi?” Feli glanced at his brother again.

Lovino closed his eyes and focused on the breeze. What did he think of the Antonio?

“He’s a bastard."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Tesoro Mio - a term of endearment that literally means "my treasure" in Italian and Spanish. Calling someone “tesoro” is similar to calling someone "sweetheart" or "darling."
> 
> *Tesoro - the Vargas wine brand. Based in Verona, with branches in Piedmont, Sicily, and Napa Valley, California. Their most famous wine is their Valpolicella - a red wine - made from Corvina Veronese, Rondinella and Molinara grapes.
> 
> *The poem at the beginning is "A Drinking Song" by William Butler Yeats.


	2. Airén

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some avoidance, some horseback riding, and finally a pleasant dinner with Valpolicella wine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, this fic is like my new shiny toy I can't wait to write for, so it may end up being updated more than twice a week, haha. But that's always a good thing, right?

For Antonio the sun has always had a soothing presence: the heat comforted him, made him feel relaxed and calm. And Californian afternoons were so often dominated by the bright, hazy sun, that it was tempting to lay down and bask in the serenity of the quiet day for an hour or two. Antonio did that quite regularly. There was a lemon tree on the hill between the main house and the gardeners’, separate from the little road, that Antonio liked to lay near. He would never be found under the shade, always a small ways away from it. 

Berwald and Kiku took a break at this time too, but they chose to lay down indoors and bask close to the air conditioner. Berwald especially.

But around four, as Antonio hovered between light sleep, and a drowsy awareness, he heard the gentle hum of a motor approach. Usually he’d think little of it and continue brushing the grass with his fingers, but this time he opened his eyes to one exciting thought. Lovino was back.

Slowly, with squinting, blinking eyes Antonio sat up and twisted his torso around to get a better look. The happy, yellow T-bird was rolling into the driveway. Feli’s side was facing Antonio.

“Oh, Toni!” Feli exclaimed gleefully. He paused the car before it’s decent into the garage and waved. “Ve~ how are you? Were you taking a siesta?”

Antonio laughed easily. It was like breathing to him. “ _Si_ , I was. It’s a wonderful time of the day to sleep.”

“That’s probably true,” Feli laughed and lifted his sunglasses to the top of his head. “You and Lovi had the same idea.”

Antonio’s grin broadened, and his eyes glinted in excitement. But he tried to talk a bit quieter. “Is he really asleep?”

Feli nodded. “ _Si_ , he is. It’s probably the jetlag. He fell asleep as soon as we sat back down in the car.” Feli gestured to the back seat, and Antonio could make out Lovino’s figure sprawled out over the seats, his legs folded near his chest.

Without his eyes open and flashing, Antonio thought Lovino looked so small and vulnerable. It was such a funny change, it made Antonio smirk in amusement.

“Oh, Toni before I forget,” Feli said quickly, and raised his hand to catch Antonio’s attention. “I was thinking we could finally have a dinner together, since everyone’s here now. Maybe sometime later this week?”

“Of course,” Antonio replied easily. It could’ve been tonight and he’d say yes.

Feli smiled. “Great! I’ll have Tino stop by to ask what you guy would like to eat, so I can start planning. _Arrivederci_!” Feli waved his hand again before driving the car slowly into the dark garage. The door shut behind him and Antonio laid back down on the grass.

It was strange for him to want anything more than working and farming, but Antonio couldn’t deny it. He really wanted to see Lovino again. For once, he felt oddly…lonely.

 

~/~

 

The rest of the day passed, and Lovino never emerged from the house. Frequently, Antonio found himself glancing over, watching the top room with the balcony – which could only be Lovi’s – and wondered what he was doing. Antonio typically went to bed rather early since he awoke before dawn, but before he walked indoors he over his shoulder, and somewhere on the hazy backlit balcony, he caught a familiar figure fleeing as quickly as he saw him.

Antonio smiled, and slipped into the house.

 

~/~

 

He didn’t meet Lovino the next morning, sneaking around in the vineyards like part of him expected; but when the sun peered over the horizon, Antonio heard a low roar in the background. He looked back at the main house and saw someone driving away on a motorcycle, starkly black against the fertile hills. 

The face was hidden by the helmet, and much too far away, but there was no possible way Feliciano would be driving a motorcycle, or Tino for that matter. It could only be Lovino.

Antonio left the vineyard for Feli’s garden, and spent an hour weeding and preening the plants when there was no real need to. He hoped Lovino would stop by on his way to the garage, but there was no sign of him at all. It was only several hours later, when Antonio was taking his lunch break with Berwald and Kiku did the motorcycle appear again. And just as soon as it came, it vanished into the garage.

“So what day did you say Feli was thinking about for dinner?” Kiku asked as he held out his agenda. For a farmer, his days were always surprisingly full.

Antonio pushed his sandwich away, not very hungry at the moment. “He didn’t say really. Just later this week sometime.”

“Was th’re a day you had in m’nd?” Berwald stared at Kiku, the reflection in his glasses a bit blinding.

Kiku squinted and turned away. “Ah, well. I’m rather busy this week, so the only night that would work for me would be Sunday.”

Four days from now. That was Antonio’s day off, but he had nothing planned, and Gilbert or Francis hadn’t said anything yet. “That’s fine with me, _amigo_. I don’t really care when.”

“It’s fine with me,” Berwald added. But Antonio couldn’t remember the last time Berwald left the vineyard, so it wasn’t much of a surprise. “I’ll tell Tino l’ter.”

Antonio and Kiku stared at him. They’d still yet to understand the relationship between those two. It seemed a bit fearful on Tino’s side, and blank on Berwald’s, and overall very confusing.

 

~/~

 

“Lovi?”

Lovino looked away from the window, a bit startled. “What?”

“Do you still want to go riding with me today?” Feli asked, and Lovino finally noticed the beige breeches and shiny black boots.

That’s right. Feliciano told him that their neighbor invited them to go riding. It seemed like a strange offer to Lovino, since Francis was a competing winemaker; but Feli said he’d heard it was a lot of fun and that many other of Francis’s friends joined in when it was held. Of course, Lovino didn’t believe or care for a word of that. He’d only flippantly told Feli he’d go after he found out Antonio was coming for dinner on Sunday. Today was Sunday, and if spending the day galloping on some stranger’s property meant delaying the company of the strange, Spanish farmer, than so be it. Lovino was running out of excuses to run away from the property anyway.

“Yeah, yeah,” Lovino drawled and left his post by the window. “Just let me grab my boots and we can go.”

“Ve~ okay!” Feli smiled, obviously relieved to have company. “I’m a bit nervous actually. It’s been so long since I’ve been on a horse.”

“It’ll be fine. I’ll help out,” Lovino reassured him and plucked his black boots from the pantry.

Feli skipped to his side and jangled his car keys. “But you haven’t been on horse longer than I have.”

“Shit—that’s not true!” Lovino replied quickly. “A-and even if it’s been a while, I was always better at it than you, so…there.” He stuffed his feet into the boots and stood up with a stomp. “Whatever, let’s just go.”

“Okay!~”

 

~/~

 

The drive over was quiet, soothing. Lovino was comforted again by the breeze, and was secretly so thankful that Feli bought a convertible. He loved his motorcycle for the same reason, but when he was a passenger, he was at least able to look at the surroundings – the horizon, the vineyards, the elegant houses – and not think about driving, or the business, or grandpa, or the damn Spaniard.

“Look _fratello_! Those are some of Francis’s vineyards! Aren’t they pretty?” Feli exclaimed and pointed to his left.

Lovino followed the gesture and gawked at the sight. “Fuck, it looks like he owns half of the neighborhood!”

Feliciano laughed lightly. “He kind of does. But his brand is much older than ours so they’ve had more time to expand.”

“Yeah, I guess. But still **—** is all of that really necessary? I swear this guy’s going to have a big ego,” Lovino rolled his eyes and returned his attention to the other side. Except he caught a fanciful, rather Parisian looking, iron gate with the script: _Jeanne d’Arc Vignoble_.

“We’re here!” Feliciano announced as he swung the car dramatically to the right, into the extravagant driveway, stopping right before the gate. He leaned over his side of the door and waited for the speaker.

_“Hello, do you have an appointment with Monsieur Bonnefoy?”_

“ _Si_! We’re from the Tesoro vineyard. We were invited for brunch and riding.~”

_“All right. Drive straight ahead and stop in the horseshoe. Someone will park your car for you.”_

The gate opened dramatically, and Lovino couldn’t help but mutter “arrogant son of a bitch” under his breath. Feli seemed rather enthused about the whole thing, and babbled to Lovino how they should get a grand gate and a speaker, and hire some fancily dressed servants like the ones waiting for them at the horseshoe.

Feliciano parked the car, and both of them grabbed their things and got out. One of the men asked if he could park their car and Feliciano said, “ _Si!_ _Grazie signore_!”

Lovino in the meantime was handed a glass of champagne, which the other servant assured him was an example of Jeanne d’Arc’s finest quality champagne, made from their Californian grown Pinot noir, Pinot Meunier, and white Chardonnay.

Lovino took the glass hesitantly, and remembering his sass he muttered, “Well, what else would it be fucking made from?” Then he walked through the open front door, swallowing the entire contents of the glass in a single gulp and depositing it on the empty tray another man held indoors.

In a moment, Feliciano was at his side again, and he cooed, “Wow, this champagne is so tasty! I love it! What did you think of yours Lovi? Oh, well since you drank it so quickly, you must have liked it.”

“Why of course! No one has tasted my champagne and resisted me for long.”

Feliciano and Lovino turned in the direction of the suave French accent, and saw a slender, well-dressed man in classic riding attire, with golden blond hair tied neatly in a ponytail and dark blue eyes that examined them from head to toe in a moment. Immediately, Lovino stiffened and felt the need to hide. He couldn’t obviously, so he settled for crossing his arms across his chest, but he still felt as though the Frenchman was undressing them with his eyes.

“You two must be the little Italians,” he said smoothly and advanced closer so that Lovino coughed on the overwhelming scent of roses and musk. “ _Bonjour_ , I am the one and only, Francis Bonnefoy. You’re neighbor, your friend, and wine connoisseur extraordinaire.” He grasped Feli’s hand to shake and winked in Lovino’s direction. “And I’m also an excellent lover, if you’re interested.”

Lovino bristled, and his face flushed in embarrassment and anger. “Who’d be interested in a creep like you?”

“ _Honhonhon~_ a lot more people than you think,” Francis smiled, and Feli giggled in amusement. “But where are my manners? I haven’t even asked your names. So which one are you _mon cher_?”

“I’m Feliciano, but you can call me Feli. And that’s my fratello Lovi, but he—”

“It’s Lovino to you.” Lovino interrupted with a scowl.

Francis seemed unfazed by the aggression, and simply pressed his lips together in a smaller smirk. “Of course, _mon chaton_. Aren’t you a feisty one! I think you’d get along splendidly with a dear friend of mine. Shall I introduce you?” Francis waved his hand in the direction of the outdoor patio.

Feli nodded his excitement, and Lovino sighed. “If it gets me away from you,” he grumbled and shuffled side by side with Feli after Francis.

On the patio was a pleasant buffet table, over of course, a starch white tablecloth. There were a few people loitering, talking to each other, most of them holding glasses, but not all were dressed for riding.

“ _Bonjour_ Emma, Michelle, Eliza,” Francis purred as he led the brothers to a small circle of women. “I’d like you to meet the new managers of the Tesoro vineyard. Lovino and Feliciano.”

At once, Lovino felt his nerves rest at ease. They were three pretty women.

Only one of them was dressed for riding. She was rather slender and tan-skinned, with dark hair in pigtails. She looked at Lovino and smiled.

“ _Bonjour_! I’m Francis’s cousin, Michelle,” she extended her hand and Lovino took it. “I’m only passing through on my way to a competition.”

“Oh!~ A competition? For what?” Feliciano asked curiously.

Francis grasped Michelle’s shoulder and looked away dramatically. “My darling cousin is a championess show hunter. She was a prodigy in France, and since she moved to California she has blossomed into a goddess. No one can surpass her.”

“You ride horses for competition! That’s so cool! Is your horse here?” Feliciano gushed and Michelle laughed as she removed herself from Francis’s embrace.

“My cousin exaggerates. But yes, I do compete. And my horse is here too. Her name is Victoria.”

Lovino nodded and noticed one of the other girls was watching him. She was wearing a fanciful, white dress with her crisp, blonde hair down in a neat bob.

“Lovino,” she said warmly, and Lovino took her hand. “I’m Emma. My brother and I own a nursery in town. I think I saw you the other day.”

“Really?” Lovino scrunched his eyebrows together.

Emma smiled coyly. “Your car was parked in front of our building. I saw you fall asleep in the backseat.”

Lovino flushed lightly. “Oh, yeah. I had pretty bad jetlag.”

“That’s so cute,” she cooed and squeezed Lovino’s arm. “You should come back to town when you feel up for it. I could show you a lot of beautiful places.”

Her touch was gentle and reassuring. Lovino’s heart didn’t stir, his skin didn’t burn, he felt happy, calm, and in control.

So he met her pale, green eyes – not at all electrifying, just simple and sweet – and smiled.

“I would love that,” he said.

 

~/~

 

A little later, after the rest of the small party had arrived and talked for a reasonable amount of time, Francis called his stable to have the horses ready and saddled.

“Feliciano, Lovino,” he called with his hand over the phone. “What sort of horses would you like?”

The brothers looked at each other. Feli’s eyes were timid and pleading, so Lovino decided to take charge.

“Feli needs an old horse. He hasn’t ridden in a long time,” he replied casually and brushed some of his hair back in place. “I’ll be fine with whatever.”

Emma giggled, and Francis’s eyes glinted in amusement. Lovino tried to ignore the latter.

“So you and Feli used to ride? That’s wonderful,” Michelle gushed and plucked another _hors d’oeuvre_ from the silver platter.

Feliciano opened his mouth to speak, but Lovino promptly stepped on his foot. He didn’t want them to look like fools in front of strangers. Especially female strangers he wanted to impress.

Michelle didn’t notice anything and grabbed another bruschetta. “Oh, this is so good! I love visiting Francis, if only for his food!”

“It is pretty good,” Feliciano complimented, having cleared just as many.

Lovino shrugged his shoulders dismissively and Emma smiled.

“The fact that Roderich likes it is compliment enough,” Eliza said and rolled her eyes. “That priss is such a diva. I swear to god.”

“Eliza, I really don’t think you should talk about your husband that way,” Emma laughed lightly.

“Oh please. I married him so I could talk about him any way I goddamn please.” She caught Feliciano and Lovino’s expressions and clarified, “My husband – Roderich – he’s a food and wine critic. Which basically gives him an excuse to keep acting like a priss, since it pays him. Well.” She shook her head. “He writes for the magazine _Ambrosia_ , have you heard of it?”

“Oh,” Feliciano gasped, but before he could gush, Lovino stepped on his foot again, and he whined.

“No,” Lovino interrupted quickly. “We haven’t heard of it.”

Michelle kept eating happily, but Elizaveta and Emma stared at them a bit perplexed.

Lovino added another smile, as cavalier as he could make it, and added, “But I’d love to hear more about it, you and your husband should come over for dinner sometime.”

Elizaveta’s face brightened, very pleased with the flirtatious gesture, and she nodded.

Lovino’s chest swelled in triumph, and he made sure to give Feliciano one last warning glass before taking a sip of his champagne. _Ambrosia_? Heard of it? Of course they’d heard of it. Lovino had to hear about it several times a day from his grandfather. It was the key to fame in the states. And _Tesoro_ , though it was prized and revered in Italy, it hadn’t yet made successful splash in the states. They needed some sort of publicity, and a review in a praised food and wine magazine was a promising first step.

But if Feliciano had gone ahead and babbled about how much he adored their magazine, and how much he wanted their wine to be in it, that would make their brand seem desperate and needy. And though it pricks Lovino’s skin to admit it, they are desperate; but at least Lovino had the common sense to act like they weren’t.

“ _Bonjour mes amis_ ,” Francis called as he swayed to the table. “I’m happy to announce that the horses are ready. Alfred and Arthur have already gone ahead, sprinting very fast I might add. Though it could’ve been Alfred running away from Arthur, I’m not entirely certain.”

Michelle stuffed two last _hors d’oeuvres_ in her mouth and got up in a hurry. She tried to say something, though with her mouthful, it only sounded like a muffled, “ _Mmf’ mready f’r you Mictoria_.”

Francis sighed. “Michelle, you don’t have to be so hungry. I promise there’s more food where that came from.” She waved at him and he shook his head in exasperation. “ _Mon Dieu_ , I think America has made her starving. How _tragique_.”

“Have fun with the horses Feli! You too Lovi!” Elizaveta called.

Lovino twitched at the sound of that irritating nickname, but since it was a beautiful woman, with some advantageous connections, he shrugged it off and threw another devilish smile.

“Be sure to watch us, ‘kay?~” Feli winked, and laughed childishly.

Lovino rolled his eyes, and pulled his brother along.

“Be careful, alright?” Emma shouted after them. Randomly, Lovino had the instinct to look over his shoulder. She blew a kiss at him.

He didn’t even feel it.

 

~/~

 

Francis’s stable was grand. It was as magnificently decorated as the rest of his property, so it didn’t come as a complete shock, but it was so much larger than the stable Lovino and Feliciano had in Verona. This must have kept more than thirty horses.

“Not all of them are mine,” Francis explained as he led the trio into the stables. Lovino’s nose wrinkled at the smell. “Alfred and Arthur keep their horses here because they don’t have room. Alfred has three. And then my farmers each have horses, and well, I have this beautiful stable, I thought I might as well use it.”

Lovino glanced nervously at a horse. It was tall. Very tall. Are all horses like that? Did he really used to ride them? It seems so hard to believe now.

He looked at Feliciano and saw he was marveling over all of the horses excitedly.

“Victoria!” Michelle yelled, and some of the other horses shifted their positions. It made Lovino jump.

She half-ran, half-walked in front of Francis and met a tall, dark-brown mare standing still outside of the stall. There was someone on the other side adjusting the saddle, but between the shade and the distance, his face was obscure.

After Michelle nuzzled with her horse for a good ten seconds she looked on the other side and said, “Oh Toni, she looks so happy! You’re so good with horses, you know that?”

Lovino’s heart stuttered, but he thought – _he hoped_ – he misheard, or perhaps it was a different person. But then he heard him laugh, that carefree, earthy laugh, and Lovino’s breath caught.

Feli looked at him worriedly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Lovino choked and forced himself to keep walking. He had to keep walking.

Antonio appeared from around the horse. His eyes didn’t find Lovino’s at first, they were admiring the mare and acknowledging Michelle, sparkling a dark, vibrant green. But Lovino didn’t miss him for a second. All he could see was Antonio.

The eyes. The hair. The skin. Even the irritating way he was dressed with a half-buttoned shirt and dirty, torn jeans. Part of Lovino wanted to stomp over there and finish the rest of the goddamn buttons, but another, more frightening part of him wanted to finish taking the shirt off.

Francis said something, Lovino didn’t hear; all he did was see when Antonio’s eyes finally met his, and memorize the way Antonio’s smile broadened even more when it happened. It was so painful, like someone suddenly grabbed his heart with sharp nails and set his skin on fire.

At some point, Antonio’s smile started moving. Lovino watched his lips. Then he realized that Antonio was saying something and cursed at himself.

“What is that?” Antonio asked, and Feli joined him in looking at Lovino curiously.

Lovino kept his gaze on the floor as he tried to regain his composure. “Nothing,” he mumbled.

It was silent, but Lovino could feel Antonio smile in the air. It made his ears redden.

“So Feli, I have your horse ready for you! You’re taking Alfred’s oldest horse, Washington.” Antonio’s voice seemed easy and pleasant, and Lovino exhaled in relief.

He dared to look up and saw Antonio was looking at him again.

“What is it, bastard?” He blurted, fear widening his eyes.

Antonio leaned over, mischief dancing in his eyes. “You’re in the way.”

Lovino didn’t blink, didn’t breathe.

“I need to get to the horse behind you,” Antonio finished, watching Lovino carefully.

“Oh,” Lovino gasped and another wave of heat colored his cheeks. He dove to the side without another word and stood cautiously next to Feliciano. Almost hiding behind him.

Antonio continued opening the stall. Inside was a grey, old horse, a bit smaller than the average. Antonio pet his nose and whispered some soft, Spanish words, then he gently led the horse out of the stall and in front of Feliciano.

“This is Washington,” Antonio said and gestured for Feliciano to pet him. “He’s seventeen years old and very friendly. If you don’t really know what to do, he’ll lead you along.”

“Vee~ He’s so cute! And not scary at all! How do I jump on top of him?” Feli hopped to the side and hovered near the saddle.

“Place your foot in the stirrup,” Antonio said, and followed Feli as he did so. “Then just swing your other leg over.”

And just as he said, in one swift motion, Feli fixed himself on top of the horse, sliding his right boot into the other stirrup. Antonio handed him the reigns and a few tips how to hold them.

Francis returned to the group on his white stallion. “Feli, _mon cher_ , how about I go along with you to help you out, and Lovino can join us later. Antonio can show him the way.”

Lovino stared wildly at Feliciano, praying his brother would understand and not go, not leave him like this, not _with him_.

But Feli hardly paid attention; he was too distracted by the horses. “Okay, sounds good!”

Francis smiled and waved his hand. “ _Fantastique_! I’ll see you later Toni! Onward Napoleon!”

He trotted out of the stable, and Feliciano’s old horse morosely followed.

Lovino watched them for as long as he could, refusing to acknowledge the situation he had gotten himself into. The only reason he willingly went along with Francis’s invitation is because Antonio wasn’t supposed to be here.

“So Lovi,” Antonio’s voice broke the silence, and Lovino jolted upright when he realized how close they were standing. Antonio smiled easily and said, “What are you doing here?”

Lovino gawked at him, frustration slowly gravitating to his features. “Wh-what am I doing here? I was invited! What about you? Do you double as that bastard’s stable boy?”

Antonio’s smile twisted in amusement. “Stable boy?”

Lovino blushed in embarrassment. “Fuck **—** er, no. Well…damn it. Yes! You’re in a stable, aren’t you? And a stable that belongs to that guy so,” Lovino trailed off, feeling less and less confident under Antonio’s relentless smile. He gritted his teeth and shouted, “Damn it, just get my fucking horse, bastard!”

Antonio laughed and brushed past Lovino’s shoulder. “I’m just here to help Francis out. His usual stable boy,” Antonio paused to looked over his shoulder and Lovino scowled. “He’s sick, and I’m the only other one who’s as comfortable with the horses. Besides, I don’t have anything to do until dinner today, so I figured why not?”

“Idiot,” Lovino muttered as he followed a few steps behind.

Antonio stopped in front of a stall and grinned. “But I’m happy I came! This is the first time I’ve talked to you in…three days? Four?”

“Five,” Lovino deadpanned. He knew, because it’d been torture finding ways to escape. He began writing a countdown to his return back to Italy.

Antonio chuckled easily, as if he just remembered. “Oh, you’re right. Five. But today will make up for it. We get to spend the day and night together!”

Lovino flushed and the instinct to yell at the poor, insinuating choice of words rung in his head. But he thought he caught a glimpse of a baited smile, so he swallowed the words back down and looked away.

“So what horse am I getting?” Lovino asked, his voice less angry as it was tense.

“Ah,” Antonio moved to the side so the white mare was in full view. “I was thinking Marie Antoinette. She’s another of Francis’s, obviously.” He laughed and looked at Lovino’s face. “Are you okay?”

“She’s big.”

“She’s a horse.” Antonio’s eyes flew over Lovino’s face: fear was written all over it.

“She looks…” Lovino edited himself from saying something stupid, like _scary_ or _mean_. “Difficult.”

Antonio opened his mouth to say something. Ask something. But Lovino’s face was so vulnerable, he already knew.

“Well, she does take after Francis, so maybe she isn’t the type for you,” he deterred quickly and gently nudged Lovino in another direction. “I think I’ll give you Rosalita.”

They stopped at a stall across the ways, and inside was a chocolate brown horse with a black mane. She was muscular and large, but there was something softer about her – rounder – and it made her seem less intimidating. 

Antonio opened the gate and led Rosalita outside, stopping her in front of Lovino.

Lovino held his hand out to pet her, but had second thoughts and pulled it back to his chest.

“You can pet her. She’s very nice,” Antonio insisted as he ran his hands over her neck.

Lovino glanced at him then back at the horse, into the large, dark eyes. He led his hand out again and gently, softly, grazed his fingertips over the nose. “Oh,” he hummed, and unconsciously smiled at the touch.

When he realized Antonio was still standing there, only a foot away, watching him, Lovino retracted his hand and glared.

“S-so what now?”

“You get on!” Antonio exclaimed and pointed to the saddle.

Lovino gulped. Feliciano made it look so easy, but it really has been such a long time. “O-kay…”

“Don’t be afraid, Lovi. I’ll help you,” Antonio reassured, and guided Lovino’s boot into the stirrup.

Lovino would’ve pushed him away, but the guidance felt so forceful and kind, he reluctantly kept quiet and let Antonio hold his waist. His hands were strong and steady, and Lovino depended on them.

“Now just swing your other leg over,” Antonio said, holding Lovino’s leg steady with one hand and the horse with the other.

Lovino did it, albeit a bit clumsier than Feliciano, and suddenly he was sitting on top of the horse. He felt so high off the ground; he couldn’t even see the horses hooves.

“Good job, Lovi,” Antonio complimented, and Lovino blushed. It was too small of a feat to be praised.

Then, Antonio placed the reigns in Lovino’s hands, their skin brushing in the movement. It felt like static, but it lingered. Even after Antonio retrieved his hand, Lovino felt it. When did he become so sensitive to these things?

“So, Rosalita’s very calm. She’ll know what to do. Just hold her reigns slack like this, and pull them right, left depending. I’ll go with you to help you out, so just wait here while I grab Marie.” Antonio gave him one last even look, obviously scanning his expression.

When he was satisfied he turned on his heel and skipped back to Marie’s stall. Lovino shifted on the horse, unsure of what to do. It really did bother him he couldn’t see the horse’s hooves. How was she standing up? Her stomach was so big…oh.

“Antonio,” Lovino called, alight annoyance seeping in his tone.

“ _Si_!”

“Did you give me a pregnant horse?”

There was some laughter, which made Lovino flush a shade darker – he didn’t know if it was from anger or something else – then Antonio was leading Marie out, looking very pleased.

“You did, didn’t you?” Lovino accused and grumbled to himself. Damn it, he didn’t want to ride a pregnant horse. That’s so…not manly. And weird, right? Doesn’t it hurt the horse? The thought occurred to him and he blurted, “I-I’m not hurting her, am I?”

Antonio’s eyes twinkled mysteriously, and he smiled. “No, you won’t. Don’t worry. It actually helps. And Rosalita’s a strong horse.” Antonio jumped onto Marie easily, and Lovino forced himself to look away unimpressed.

“She’s your horse isn’t she?”

“Maybe!~”

Lovino sighed.

 

~/~

 

“Is this your first time on a horse, Lovi?”

“ _Tsk—_ Are you trying to make fun of me?

“No, of course not. But if you’re nervous, you can talk to me and I can—”

“Well, I have ridden horses before. So there…bastard.”

“Oh, I see.”

“Yeah.”

…

“Has it been a long time?”

“Wh-what?”

“You’re holding the reigns really tightly. You also look really pale. Aw, I’ve never seen you pale before. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine! I just can’t see the fucking ground over your horse’s huge stomach! Are you sure she’s not going to like—tip over or something?”

“I’m very sure.”

“Stop laughing, goddamn it! I’m serious!”

“I’m always serious, Lovi.”

“No, you’re not. You’re never serious. And you’re still laughing, bastard.”

“Sorry, haha. I’m sorry. I-I’ll stop. I promise.”

“I don’t trust your promises.”

“Loosen the reigns some more.”

“Shit.”

…

“So, why’d you come if you didn’t want to ride a horse?”

“Who said I didn’t want to ride a horse? I’m doing it, aren’t I?”

“…I guess.”

“Jerk.”

…

“I mean, I ride a fucking motorcycle, why the hell can’t I ride a horse?”

“ _Fusososo!_ ”

“What? What did I say? It’s true! I’d like to see your clumsy ass get on my motorcycle. You'd be eating dirt in the first ten meters. I know it.”

“I ride a bicycle. A motorcycle can’t be so different.~”

“You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?”

“I would never make fun of you, Lovi.”

“Bullshit.”

 

~/~

 

Eventually, Antonio and Lovino reached the others. Francis was giving Feliciano a tour of his vineyard, and pointing out his different varieties of grapes. Alfred and Arthur were around too, and Feliciano happily chatted with them as well. They owned a veterinary practice in town. Alfred specialized in large animals, so he visited Francis’s plantation and the ranches nearby very often, whereas Arthur kept to town and worked on smaller, domestic animals.

Lovino hung a few ways back. He didn’t know what to think of Arthur and Alfred. They talked a lot, and tried to reel him into a conversation, but Lovino gave short, curt answers and tried to stay clear. It didn’t seem to matter much since Alfred and Arthur were clearly more invested in themselves anyway.

Antonio held back too, and made sure to ride side by side with Lovino, occasionally making more small talk, and more often giving riding tips. At every hill and dip, Lovino stiffened, trying to hold onto Rosalita tighter, incidentally sparking her into a gallop; and Antonio would appear at his side, calmly giving orders and cooing Rosalita in whispers and rolling “r”s. Lovino would blush and curse, but he couldn’t help but relax at the help.

There were also silences that fell between them. Lovino thought he liked those better, because at least he didn’t have to defend himself to a nosy Spaniard, but it might’ve been worse. The silence just made Lovino notice more. He heard the rhythmic clomping of the hooves, the drawling conversations of horses and grapes, Rosalita’s breathing, Marie’s breathing, the clicking of Antonio’s tongue. And from the corner of his eyes he watched Antonio’s straight back, in perfect posture, flexing in motion, and his lips alternating variably from a slight smile to a broad grin.

Sometimes Lovino caught Antonio staring at him, and he didn’t know what to do. His first reaction was to kick Rosalita into a fast gallop away, but somehow he couldn’t and he ended up just staring back for a few moments. It was awkward eye contact, but it felt…friendly. Antonio smiled his perfect, tender smile and Lovino could sense the stupid, kind words floating around his head.

Lovino kept a scowl, but secretly, his heart raced.

 

~/~

 

"Thank you so much for everything, Francis! It was so much fun!"

"It was no problem at all, _mon cher_. It is me who should be thank you. For saving me from another wistful, dreamy day, locked away in my tower."

Lovino rolled his eyes at the two of them, and looked down at Antonio.

"It's okay, Lovi. Just swing your leg over, and slowly slide down," he said smoothly, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

And perhaps it is. Lovino was just a bit frightened. He didn't know if he was more worried about hitting Rosalita's stomach or hitting the ground.

"O-kay," Lovino mumbled hesitantly, and began the process. He pulled his right foot out of the stirrup and slid it back over the back. He tried to lower his leg slowly, but he miscalculated, and suddenly he felt his leg slip.

There was a quick "shit" followed by a harsh gasp, and Feliciano and Francis turned around only to see Lovino held firmly in the arms of Antonio.

" _Ohonhon_ , what happened here?" Francis asked with a sly smile.

Lovino opened his eyes, and realized where he was. His back pressed against Antonio's chest, with strong arms wrapped around his waist, and warm breath brushing against his ear.

His cheeks flushed. He felt so warm. So incredibly warm. Antonio's skin burned, his skin burned; all his senses buzzed and it felt strange, it felt frightening, it felt…wrong.

Antonio chuckled lightly, and suddenly Lovino remembered what to do.

"B-bastard! Get the hell off of me! What the hell do you think you're doing?" Lovino shouted and unwrapped himself from Antonio's grip with shaky hands.

Antonio blinked, and his laugh faded into confusion. But before he could say anything, Feliciano intervened, "Ve~ Francis, you should have dinner with us tonight! Lovino and I are having dinner with our farmers, so you should come too! It'd be fun!"

"Me, having dinner with someone like Antonio? It would be an honor," Francis replied jokingly, but his eyes glittered in appreciation. "Shall it be my wine or yours?"

"Ours, of course," Lovino said evenly. When he noticed Antonio was still watching him, he grabbed Feliciano's hand and yelled, "We're going bastard, but if you bother coming, dinner starts at seven sharp."

"I wouldn't miss it for the world!"

Feliciano peered over his shoulder and waved cheerfully. Then he looked back at his brother. "Lovi, what's wrong? Are you hurt?"

Lovino bit his lip. Everything hurt. "No, I just…I just don't like being around Antonio. I didn't think he'd be here."

"Oh," Feliciano said and kept his eyes fixed on his brother's expression.

Lovino was worried he might ask more, but he didn't, and when he resumed gushing about Francis's property, Lovino sighed in relief.

 

~/~

 

Before seven o' clock, Francis's red Jaguar was turning into the driveway, Antonio's bike attached oddly to the back.

"You really didn't need to drive me Francis. I would've been happy to bike back," Antonio said for the fifth time, nervously adjusting the sleeves of his starch white button-down.

Francis rolled his eyes. " _Mon cher_ , I don't mind driving you back. I have a car, and you're my friend. Also, since I'm so kindly letting you borrow some of my nicer clothes, I'd rather you not exercise in them." Francis stopped the car and shifted it into park.

"Oh, well," Antonio laughed and scratched his head. "I guess you're right."

"And stop messing with your hair. I only just managed to tame that," Francis ordered, surprisingly strict. "I rarely get a chance to see you in anything but ratty jeans and faded shirts. Try to behave for one night. You used to dress up on a regular basis, you know."

Antonio's shoulders stiffened and he pressed his lips together. "I know, but I don't—I don't like it." He unbuttoned his collar three loops. "It doesn't suit me."

"Well, _mon dieu_ , of course I know that. But you should at least remember how to be gentlemanly when you need to be," Francis said as he propped the door open. He caught Antonio's solemn face and added, "It would impress little Lovino if you did."

Antonio's eyes went wide, and even with the tan, Francis caught a faint blush appear on his cheeks. "Wh-why would I try to impress Lovino?"

Francis smiled knowingly, and Antonio gulped in fear. He didn't understand why, or well, he thought he knew a reason, but the way Francis looked at him, it made him feel very mistaken. And very nervous.

"Come on _mon cher_ , we don't want to keep the Italians waiting," Francis chuckled and stepped out of the car.

Antonio blinked from his reverie and followed suit, still continuously readjusting and fixing the new shirt, and the clean, tailored pants.

The doorbell only had to ring once, and suddenly it was swung open. Tino was standing in the doorway, pale blue apron cinched over his light sweater and pants.

He smiled brightly. "Ah, there you are! Everyone else is already here. Feli and Lovino were getting hungry."

" _Excusez-moi_! I'm afraid it took some time to wrangle Toni into something presentable," Francis said easily as he sashayed into the house.

Antonio stumbled behind him, suddenly more excited about seeing the house than anxious about the dinner. It really was as beautiful on the inside. It was more modern than he expected – the outside made it look rather rustic – but there was still plenty of shiny wood and polished rock, just mixed in with ornate details and expensive electronics. Antonio wasn't sure what he thought of that. He'd hoped it would have been simpler somehow.

But then he caught sight of Lovino crouching over the table, and whatever small disappointment he had flew away in an instant.

"You two can sit anywhere. I'm going to bring the food right out," Tino said happily, and voiced the last part in the Italians' direction. Feli's spirits lifted slightly, and he looked away from his empty plate to smile in Francis's and Antonio's direction. Lovino barely moved. His eyes were glued to the tablecloth.

There were three free seats left, but since Berwald had his arm wrapped protectively over the seat to his right, technically there were only two, and they were on either side of Lovino.

Antonio walked to the table and pulled out a chair, smiling in Lovino's direction even though he hadn't yet looked up.

"Lovi!" Antonio called, and watched in amusement how Lovino's shoulders jerked up and brown eyes flashed in his direction.

Lovino seemed genuinely surprised to see him. "When did you get here?"

"Just now, didn't you see?" Antonio tilted his head.

"No, I was thinking," Lovino replied and turned his head away, red tinting his cheeks. "And I wouldn't have noticed you anyway," he added in a low mumble.

"Oh, don't be so rude _mon chaton_! Look at all the effort I put in to make Antonio presentable for you. Come now, doesn't he look like sophisticated gentleman?" Francis grinned.

Antonio narrowed his eyes at his friend, but then he heard something magical: Lovino's laugh. It was still so rare and musical, Antonio looked at Lovino very surprised.

But it was as fleeting as ever, and after a few moments, Lovino managed to bite his laughter back and say, "I don't think he could ever look sophisticated. Or like a gentleman." His gold-brown eyes sparkled, and Antonio smiled breathlessly.

It was so exciting to see Lovino happy. His face was so colorful and expressive and complex, Antonio wished he could spent hours trying to solve it.

"You don't think I could be a gentleman?" Antonio asked, chuckling playfully.

Lovino's lips twisted, as he fought hard to hide a smile. "No, it doesn't suit you," he said and picked up his glass of wine. "You're better off as an idiot."

Francis laughed and raised his glass. "Well, I'll agree to that!"

Feli joined in enthusiastically, and Berwald and Kiku participated a bit more quietly. Each had a sip of the wine, and Antonio just watched them tentatively. He left the glass alone and drank some of his water instead.

Tino came in to bring out the dinner, dropping it off plate by plate. Lovino noticed Antonio hadn't touched his wine, and he frowned.

"What's wrong with it?"

Antonio turned to him, blinking in confusion. "What's wrong with what?"

Lovino pointed and said, "The wine."

"Oh," Antonio scratched his hair, and Francis groaned. "I don't really like wine. It's kind of funny, huh?"

"You what?"

"I don't like wine."

"No."

"No…what?"

"No. You like wine. Everybody likes wine," Lovino ordered, and his eyes blazed in passion. "You're _Spanish_. You have to like wine."

"I know," Antonio smiled a bit embarrassed and fidgeted with his collar again. "But I just don't. It doesn't taste good."

"Don't take it to heart Lovino, Antonio really has never liked wine. I've tried my best, but really the only way to get him to like it is to get him drunk first. He can only handle some white wines, or champagne," Francis explained as he took another sip. "But this is very good! Tastes a bit like cherries. Is this your Valpolicella?"

"It is! This is our most famous one! It's what we're known for in Italy," Feliciano exclaimed as he rolled his spaghetti onto his fork.

"It's very good," Francis complimented and sighed. "Ah, it really is so sad I have two friends so against the most wonderful thing in the world."

"Well, Gilbert can drink it. He just likes beer more," Antonio said in his friend's defense.

 _"Who could like beer more than wine?"_ Francis and Lovino muttered in unison. They looked up, and though Francis seemed rather pleased, Lovino quickly turned away with a blush and scowl.

"A-anyway," Lovino stabbed his spaghetti and tried to ignore the friendly French aura. "If you're going to work here, you're going to have to start drinking wine."

Antonio's face fell. "Really?"

"Yes," Lovino deadpanned and pointed to the full glass. "Starting with that one."

Antonio glanced back and forth from the glass to Lovino's stern eyes, asking silently if he was serious. Lovino didn't budge and Antonio groaned in dread.

He picked up the glass, still keeping eye contact with Lovino in desperate hope that he won't have to follow through, but there was no sign. So quickly, Antonio shut his eyes and took a fast sip, throwing it behind his tongue as fast as he could to avoid the taste. Of course, he still caught a bit, and his face scrunched a bit in displeasure.

"You fucking baby," Lovino shook his head. "You're the type who just wants to drink juice."

"At least juice tastes good. It's just—alcohol is so…" Antonio shuddered and Francis resigned himself to another light laugh.

"He really is a tragic case, isn't he?" Francis lamented.

"Oh, I know!" Feli piped up, capturing the attention of everyone at the table. "Toni should come to our wine tasting event! He could try them all and maybe find one he'd like."

Lovino blushed and waved his hand. "But that's for critics and buyers. People who actually like wine and take it seriously. I'm not inviting a fucking lightweight who doesn't know anything about wine to mess everything up."

"Aw, I think it'd be good for him! It won't just be serous people! I'm sure there'll be people from town too," Feli insisted, and shifted his gaze to Antonio. "I really think you'd like it! There won't just be red wine. And you can bring a friend or a date too! Wine is very romantic."

Antonio's heart stuttered. A date. When was the last time he went on a date? The word never evoked a reaction from him before, but why is it now he feels so fluttery. For some reason he found himself turning towards Lovino and checking his expression.

Lovino was staring down at his spaghetti, his face strangely blank and tense.

"Is it okay?" Antonio asked, though he didn't know what he was asking about really.

Lovino's eyes darted up, very wide and very golden. He seemed to check himself though, and quickly bit his lip and picked up his fork forcefully. "J-just do whatever the hell you want bastard. I don't care."

Antonio's heart clenched. But he ignored it and chose to admire Lovino's adorable blush instead. "Okay. _Gracias_."

~/~

After everyone had finished their dinner, and the awkward off and on conversations had ceased, Antonio, Berwald and Kiku apologized for having to leave early—they live on farm time, and have to get up early in the morning. Francis decided to leave at that time too, but he left much more refreshed than before. It'd been a very socially successful day for him.

When everyone was loitering near the door, Lovino didn't say his goodbyes. He just stood by the staircase and crossed his arms as everyone walked by. Antonio said good night to him, and Lovino tilted his eyes down to avoid meeting green ones and mumbled a soft, "you too." Antonio smiled – Lovino knows he did – and left.

Afterwards, Lovino moved to his post at the kitchen window and watched the small house until finally the lights went out. His heart hurt so much. He didn't like it at all. It made him feel so afraid. So guilty.

Feliciano skipped into the kitchen to hunt through the refrigerator, and Lovino fiddled with his cross under his shirt.

As Feli hummed to nothing, Lovino gripped the cross.

"Hey Feli?"

" _Si?_ " Feliciano pulled out a large tub of strawberry ice cream and laid it on the counter. He was only half paying attention as he hunted for a bowl and spoon.

Lovino flushed in shame. "Um, is there a…a church in town?"

"A church?" Feli paused to look at him curiously. "Do you want to go to mass next week?"

"Y-yeah," he replied stiffly.

Feliciano gave him another look before turning back to the tub with a hum. "Hm, there are a lot of Protestant churches here, but I think I saw a Catholic one somewhere. I don't think it'll be as pretty as the Italian ones so I haven't gone."

"Oh," Lovino breathed and squeezed his necklace one last time. Then he shuffled out of the kitchen towards the stairs.

"Aw, are you going to bed already? I wanted to watch some Virna Lisi movies.~"

"Just watch them with Tino. I'm tired," Lovino said hastily as he jumped up the stairs.

"Alright, fine," Feli sighed. " _Ti amo, Lovi! Buonanotte!_ "

Lovino couldn't reply, his throat felt too tight, so he pretended he hadn't heard anything and ran to his room. He dashed past his bed until he reached his balcony and finally, the cold night air enveloped him securely. He sat down on the floor and curled up near the iron railing as he looked outwards.

Lovino's eyes stung, but he didn't cry. He isn't going to cry about this because it doesn't matter. He'll go to church tomorrow and everything will be better. He'll confess, and he'll be forgiven. He will.

Somehow Lovino's eyes found their way to the little house, only lit faintly by moonlight, and he prayed.

He just wanted Antonio to stay away.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *vignoble – vineyard
> 
> *mon chaton – my kitten
> 
> *Michelle Bonnefoy (Francis's cousin) – Seychelles
> 
> *Jeanne d'Arc - the Bonnefoy wine brand. Based in Bordeaux, with branches in Burgundy, Rioja and Valdepeñas (Spain), Saxony (Germany), Mendoza (Argentina), and Napa Valley, California. Their most famous wine is their Sauternes - a dessert wine - made from Sémillon, Sauvignon blanc, and Muscadelle grapes.
> 
> I'll see you very soon, because obviously I don't follow schedules. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I'd love to hear what you think so far :)


	3. Nebbiolo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Church, a new friend, some flowers, tomato plants, and a black motorcycle.

That feeling was familiar. Lovino remembered it. The dizzying rush of adrenaline, a confusing and fluttering heart, and the burning desire, a compulsion, to just touch someone. A boy.

It was so long ago, but Lovino remembered it perfectly. It was someone he sat next to in Catholic school, just an ordinary schoolboy, but he was beautiful. Lovino always thought so. And it didn't seem wrong at the time. It felt right. It felt natural. How could he not be attracted to him?

So during recess one day, hidden behind a pretty pine tree in the back of the playground, Lovino kissed him. It was short and sweet – a quick peck on the lips – just an impulse – but it made Lovino's cheeks burn hotter than they'd ever been. His palms sweat and tentatively, from under his bangs he looked back at the boy who had already run away.

Then there were lectures. And meetings. He talked to every nun, every teacher, every official in charge, and they explained to him what he'd done, why it was wrong, and it terrified Lovino so much. The thought of being unwanted, unworthy, disgusting, or even condemned. So he apologized. He told them he didn't know, it was an accident, and he wouldn't ever do it again. They accepted his atonement, but always kept a watchful eye over him.

Then communion came, and Lovino confessed his greatest sin, the one that forever haunted his mind. Kissing that beautiful boy.

 

~/~

 

Antonio stepped out of the little house, and lingered under the protection of the roof. It was raining today. There was a light drizzle that blanketed everything in the valley, and Antonio looked out a bit sadly at the bleak, grey sky. He sighed and leaned against the doorway. Hopefully it'll clear up in the afternoon. There's nothing for him to do indoors.

He heard the low roar of a motor and he hurried outside. Lovino's black motorcycle rolled out of the driveway, and in another moment it sped to the main road, twisting and turning with the hills.

Antonio's breath hitched when he thought of Lovino riding his motorcycle in the rain. Would he be okay? Does Lovino know how to drive in the rain? Are these roads even safe?

Antonio's ears followed the hum of the motor avidly, waiting for any screeches or halts.

Eventually, it faded away, and Antonio breathed.

 

~/~

 

There was a Catholic church, and it was much larger than Feliciano let on. It even had a convent and a school attached to it. Lovino's shoulders stiffened at the sight of the place: it reminded him too much of home.

He parked his motorcycle and set the kickstand, then took off his helmet to let the rain wash over him. He didn't mind it. It was cool and refreshing. After a few minutes of awkward standing, Lovino felt ready, and he pushed open the door with steady hands.

It was plain; Feliciano was right about that. There were few stained glass windows, and poor, simple decorations in general, but it was a church, and that was all that mattered.

Lovino touched the holy water and quickly made the motions of the cross, then he walked forward, turning around every few steps to check for other bodies. There was only one, a woman with short dark blonde hair, kneeling down in a pew, but Lovino only gave her a cursory glance before angling away to the votive candles.

Lovino lit one and prayed.

_Please God, just keep Antonio away. I don't want to sin again. I don't know what to do when I'm around him. Just keep him away, please. Please. That's all I want._

When Lovino opened his eyes he noticed the short-haired woman was lighting a candle next to him. He flinched, and she turned around.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I startle you?" She asked, and Lovino's eyes flitted all over her face. Her right cheek: it's scarred. Not terribly, but there were lines and divots running near her eye down over her cheek, all the way to her jawline.

Lovino forced himself back to her eyes. They were grey. "No, of course not."

She smiled, and her eyes crinkled kindly. "All right. Sorry anyway," she said and finished lighting a candle.

Lovino watched absentmindedly as she lit one after another. Without thinking he blurted, "Why so many?"

"Hm," she blinked from her reverie and their eyes met again. "Oh, well these are for…for my company."

"Your company?" Lovino repeated.

Her eyes tilted down, but her smile stayed. "Yes. I was a captain of a company in the U.S. Army."

"Oh." Lovino narrowed his eyes at her in confusion. "But you don't really sound American."

"Yes, well, I was born in France. I only moved to the states after my parents passed away," she said and brushed locks of neat cropped hair behind her ear. "And then I joined the army."

"Are you…retired?" Lovino asked hesitantly, unsure of the right choice of words.

Her smile twisted crookedly in amusement. "In a way. I'm trying to find my new calling."

Lovino nodded, and turned towards his candle again.

"I'm actually staying with the convent right now as a postulate."

"You want to be a nun?" Lovino jerked his head around incredulously. "But that's—you're too nice to become a nun!" It wasn't even just that. Lovino couldn't place it, but there was just _something_ about her that didn't seem to fit with his experiences of other nuns. She was different.

The woman laughed merrily, faint color spreading over her face, and Lovino flushed too, just several shades darker.

"Not all nuns are scary," she chuckled. "But if it's any consolation, I don't think I'll be pursuing that avenue for very much longer. It doesn't suit me anymore." She offered a smile to Lovino, but he avoided her eyes. "I'm sorry, I don't think I've asked for your name."

"Oh, um, Lovino Vargas," he said and extended his arm out.

"You're Italian right? I'm Jeanne Romée, it's a pleasure to meet you," she grasped his hand, and startled Lovino with a firm shake. Jeanne noticed Lovino kept darting his eyes to the side. "Are you looking for someone?"

He blinked, and folded his arms over his chest protectively. "K-kind of. I was wondering if a priest was here?"

Understanding lit her eyes. "You're here for a confession, aren't you?" He nodded. "I don't believe there's one here right now. Perhaps he'll be here later? Or I could ask one of the nuns when he'll be back—"

"No, that's fine," Lovino breathed, suddenly relieved the church was empty.

Jeanne pursed her lips in thought. "Well, if you need to talk, I'd be happy to listen."

He hesitated. "No, really, it's fine. I-It's not important anyway," he sighed and rubbed his red cheek.

"Is it about a girl?"

"W-what?" Lovino stuttered and stepped back. "Why would you ask that?"

Jeanne pointed at him. "Because you're blushing. And you seem rather nervous."

"That doesn't mean shit," he huffed, and smacked his head with his palm when he realized he cursed. "Damn it—er, I mean, fu—oh, whatever."

She giggled and patted his shoulder. "Don't worry. I'm sure God forgives you. But why don't you tell me more about this girl? I could probably help."

"Because that's," he stopped and bit his lip. "W-well, w-what do you do if you l-like someone you…shouldn't?"

"Oh, like Romeo and Juliet?" She smiled.

"No, not at all like fu-stupid Romeo and Juliet," Lovino muttered darkly and dismissed the thought Antonio being anything but an idiot. He most certainly couldn't be romantic.

"Really? Well, why 'shouldn't' you two be together?" Jeanne raised her hands in air-quotes.

Lovino clenched his nails into his palms. "Because it's just…wrong."

"Oh, Lovino. God loves you unconditionally. I don't think loving someone could change that," she appeased and placed her hand on his shoulder reassuringly.

He looked at her face, her scars, her grey, stormy eyes, her smile. She didn't get it at all. Suddenly, he shook of her hand and started walking away.

"Lovino?" Jeanne called after him, unsure of whether to follow or not.

Lovino ignored her. He didn't want to yell, he didn't want to cry, and he knew if he even tried to explain everything to her, he would end up doing both. This is his problem, not hers.

So he pushed open the tall, wooden doors, and let them slam shut with a violent gust of wind. Then he was alone in the rain. It drizzled all over him, Lovino wanted it to rinse everything away. Why couldn't his emotions fall down with the raindrops?

He thought about going back to the vineyard: seeing Antonio again. What is he going to do? Ignore him? Act as he has been?

Then Lovino realizes this was all one-sided; just as it had been in grade school. All of these feelings, these nauseating sensations, they all belonged to him. Antonio doesn't feel any of it, he's just an idiot after all.

Lovino gripped his cross. The thought of Antonio not feeling anything for him – even though it's right – broke his heart. It made everything hurt.

But maybe, if he can just pretend like they're only friends, everything will be okay. Lovino won't mess things up like he did all of those years ago.

For some reason, it would be even worse if it was Antonio running away.

 

~/~

 

Lovino drove away from the church. He sped away as fast as he could, and only slowed when felt as though he was finally safe from its grasp and no one was looking over his shoulder.

He arrived in downtown, and wandered vaguely through the streets. The publicity for the wine tasting had already been sent out, so there was nothing much for him to do for a while. He supposed he should be choosing and arranging the schedule for the day, but Lovino felt too scatterbrained for that.

A clear, glass structure caught his eye. It was filled to the brim in green, and attached was a quaint brick building, with colorful flowers overflowing from the windowsills. Lovino paused his bike at the sidewalk and stared at the sign.

Tulip Haven. That was Emma's nursery, wasn't it? The one she shared with her brother.

Lovino thought about her pale, green eyes and easy, sweet voice…He could like her, right? He thought she was pretty, and fairly nice; she wasn't half as annoying as some of the girls he talked to. Maybe if he went out with her Antonio wouldn't be a problem anymore.

With that hopeful thought, Lovino gritted his teeth and parked his bike. He unbuckled his helmet and held it at his side, and wandered over to the nursery. The door was colorful and inviting, but Lovino held his breath when pushing through. A chime echoed when he stepped inside.

"Hello there! Welcome to Tulip Haven, can I hel—oh, Lovino!" Emma looked up from the desktop computer and smiled charmingly at him.

Lovino breathed easier. At least Emma made him feel calm. "Hey, I was just driving through. I thought I might just stop by."

"Of course! Of course! Do you want me to show you around? It's not very big, but Tim – my brother – he takes such good care of the place, and it's so wonderful," she gushed as she skipped around the counter.

Lovino rubbed the top of his helmet against his jean, and debated hugging her. But Emma made the first move.

"Aw," she hummed as she enveloped him in her arms. "I'm so happy you came! We never really got to say goodbye the other day."

Lovino twitched and felt his cheeks grow warm at the memory of that day. After the horse ride, he really just wanted to leave; he stormed out of the property without giving notice to anyone.

"Sorry," he laughed awkwardly, and untangled himself from her arms. "Feliciano and I had dinner to prepare for some guests, so we had to get home fast."

"You had dinner without me?" She placed a hand to heart in faux anger. "You didn't invite another girl, did you?"

Lovino's face darkened in shame. "The hell? Of course not, why would I—er, I don't…" his voice trailed off and he hung his head in defeat. "Shit, never mind."

Surprisingly, Lovino didn't hear anger or confusion, just a pleasant, light giggle, and suddenly he felt the soft sensation of lips pressing against his cheek. He looked up wide-eyed and perplexed, but Emma just smiled slyly at him.

"Oh, Lovino, I was only teasing you," she poked his side and he stood there numbly. "You're so cute! I love how you get so embarrassed. But don't worry, I'm not mad at you. Well, not too much."

"What?"

"I know," she clapped her hands together, and her green eyes glinted almost yellow under the florescent light. "How about you find a way to make it up to me?"

"Um," Lovino stared at her and tried to comprehend what she was saying. "Like a…date?" The last word left his mouth so tentatively, but Emma's face lit up all the same.

"You'd like to go on a date with me, Lovino?"

"You just said—"

"Yes, I'd love to! I'm so happy you asked!" She pulled him down for another hug, and released with a coy smile. "I'm going to make something for you real quick. How about you take a look around and come find me in a few minutes."

Lovino nodded, and watched Emma's dress swish side to side as she skipped into the back room.

Without thinking, he felt his lips turn up, and he walked towards the warm greenhouse with a proud little smile. Maybe he wasn't a lost cause. He just asked out Emma, didn't he? And she's a girl. Though, in a way it was more like her doing, but all the same Lovino said yes, damn it.

As he turned the aisles in the steamy glass building he caught sight of a perfect collection of tomato plants. Lovino paused in front of them and held their fresh, young leaves in his fingers. He used to have tomato plants at home that he and Feliciano planted with their parents, but after they passed away, the garden faded away with them.

Lovino wondered if he could plant them. It might be nice to have a vegetable garden, but he didn't really know anything about raising plants. Maybe he did in the past, but it's been so long and…

"Lovi!"

At the sound of that voice, Lovino's body jumped up, and his eyes widened in more fear than surprise. Across the rows of tomato plants was Antonio's broad grin, curly brown hair, and his glowing, emerald eyes.

"W-what the hell? What are you doing here?" Lovino stuttered, and he backed up to grip a table behind him.

Antonio laughed his earthy, Spanish laugh, and Lovino turned his gaze away very embarrassed.

" _Lo siento_ , Lovi. I didn't mean to surprise you," he apologized and leaned his tan, muscular arms near the tomato plants in front of him. "Berwald was going into town to do some shopping since the rain isn't letting up today, and I thought I'd go with him."

"Really?" Lovino frowned and flicked his eyes to Antonio's once more. He hoped he looked menacing, or angry at the very least, but Antonio's lips twitched in amusement, and his eyes danced keenly. Lovino gave up and tilted his gaze to the floor again. "Whatever. It's not like I care what you do with your stupid time anyway."

Antonio didn't seem to hear the bite in those weak words, or if he did, he didn't care, and said, "Oh, that reminds me. When is that wine tasting thing again?"

Lovino rolled his eyes. "You still on about that? Look, you don't have to go if you don't like wine. You'll just mess things up that way."

"Aw, that's not true! I may not like wine, but I do like you," Antonio smiled happily, and Lovino felt his ears burn red. "I feel like I should give your wine a chance! I am growing the grapes, so…" Antonio's voice trailed off into another laugh.

Lovino didn't say anything. He was still repeating those four words over and over in his head. He knows it's wrong, but just hearing those words sent a thrill up his spine.

"Also, Feli said I could bring someone. Is that still okay?" Antonio asked, and Lovino blinked.

All of the heat stirring in his chest wrapped around his heart and squeezed. His heartbeat echoed loud and slow.

Somehow, Lovino managed to cough, and frown nonchalantly. "Do whatever you want bastard, I don't give a shit."

This time, Antonio did notice the sting, and he squinted at Lovino a bit perplexed. "Are you sure? Feliciano said I could take someone so—"

"Look, I already said it's fine! You can bring whoever the fuck you want!" Lovino snapped, and after a moment added, "I'll probably bring someone too, so there."

"Oh," Antonio replied simply, his expression suddenly blank.

Lovino waited in baited breath for Antonio to say something more, anything at all, but he didn't and just stared pensively at the tomato plants.

"W-well, I think I'm just going to head back," Lovino mumbled and shifted the helmet from his right hand to his left.

Antonio looked up, surprised to see Lovino already walking away, and ran swiftly around the corner to catch up with him. "You're leaving?"

"Y-yeah. I have to get back eventually." Lovino fidgeted, unnerved to have Antonio so close. He could smell the perfume of basil leaves and spices, and feel the warmth of sunshine. It made him feel dizzy, and unsure of whether he wanted to run away or get closer.

Suddenly, Antonio grasped his arm and held him back. Lovino didn't breathe, and turned his eyes to Antonio's warily and confused. Maybe even a bit hopeful.

Antonio paused, apparently as surprised by the situation as Lovino, but quickly recovered with a delicate smile. "Do you mind driving a bit more carefully? These roads aren't really great in the rain."

"Um," Lovino breathed, and couldn't help but hold onto Antonio's strong, fervent gaze. But he caught himself and shook himself free from his grip. "P-please, I'm an excellent driver."

Antonio's smile remained, but he closed his eyes with a small sigh. "I'm sure you are."

Just as Lovino was debating his choices of snarky remarks, Emma turned into their aisle.

"Ah, Lovi! Found you!" She called, and briefly halted her gate when she spotted Antonio standing nearby. Lovino's breath hitched when he noticed Emma's sharp eyes flick from Antonio to him and back again, but he tried his best to look relaxed. Then she asked, "Do you two know each other?"

" _Si!_ "

"No."

Antonio and Lovino exchanged glances, and Emma looked at them suspiciously.

Lovino hugged his helmet and tried to ignore his furious blush. "H-he works for me. On the vineyard. We only met a week ago."

"Oh, I see," Emma hummed, and Lovino caught the glare she sent Antonio's way.

"Wait, how do you know Emma?" Antonio piped up, purposefully directing his attention towards Lovino.

Lovino squeezed the helmet tighter. He felt trapped. "Well, we met at Francis's house."

"And Lovino was so sweet! All of the girls were positively charmed with him," she added and stepped closer to slide her hand around Lovino arm. "Especially me."

Emma pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, and looked at Antonio again. "Oh, Toni. I think Berwald was looking for you somewhere near the lettuce. You should try to find him."

Lovino wasn't sure if he caught a flicker of annoyance in his eyes because in another second, Antonio's eyes were sparkling again, and looking only at him.

"Well, I guess I better go. Take care Lovi. I'll see you at home, okay?" Antonio held Lovino's shoulder briefly before walking away.

"Bye Toni! See you later!" Emma sang after him, sarcasm dripping from her lips.

Lovino's fingers drifted over his shoulder, and his arm: he could still feel Antonio's touch. It seared through his jacket onto his skin. It was like a burn, scalding and painful; and even after the fact, it still throbbed.

"Lovino," Emma purred, and Lovino jumped in alarm. She didn't mind, and if anything, it seemed to please her. "Before you leave, there's something I want to give you."

She tugged on his sleeve anyway, and encouraged him to follow. So he did, but couldn't help but peer through the tall and varying plants for any sign of Antonio. When they reached the front desk, he gave up, and watched Emma hunt for something behind a cabinet.

Then she revealed a small bouquet full of bright, pretty flowers.

"This is for you," she said and handed the bouquet off to Lovino's free hand.

He grasped it and looked at her hesitantly. "Oh, it's really…nice. But what's this for?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "Just because," she smiled, and Lovino caught the hint.

"Thanks," he said, and felt his features relax in relief.

"You're very welcome," she giggled, and poked his arm playfully. "Make sure to take good care of it, alright? There's something very special in there."

"Okay," Lovino replied, and finally managed to give her a heartfelt smile in return. "Maybe I'll see you later," he added as he pushed open the glass door.

"I hope so! Bye, Lovi," she waved with another giggle, and Lovino winked.

It was still raining outside, but it was just a steady drizzle. Lovino dropped his helmet over his head with one hand, and made the move to inspect the bouquet. He wasn't sure what to do with it, since he was driving a motorcycle, but maybe he could at least look inside before he tried to carry it home. His fingers shifted through the varying stems, tied together by a broad green ribbon, and then, tucked neatly in the midst, was a crisp white card.

Lovino plucked it out and read the fanciful, cursive script. On one side it was the name of the store – Tulip Haven – and on the other…

_Call me sometime, okay? – Emma._

Her number was written underneath.

 

~/~

 

Lovino tucked the flowers into his jacket and drove home. Everything was strangely quiet. The rain, the motor, the wind. All of it seemed faded and ghostly. He felt numb somehow. Perhaps he was too confused to feel anything at all.

When he arrived home, he dumped the flowers on the kitchen counter and ignored Feliciano's prodding, excited questions. Lovino gave some half-assed answer about a girl, and climbed the stairs while he tried to block out Feliciano and then Tino's high pitched shrills of excitement.

He flopped on the bed and hid his face in the pillows. He wouldn't look out at the vineyard tonight hoping to catch Antonio. He was just going to sleep.

 

~/~

 

Lovino didn't wake up until late the next morning. The sunlight was shining brightly in his face, and he groaned at the sight of it. Slowly, almost painfully, he rolled out of bed, and proceeded to stumble down the stairs, desperate for a sip of caffeine.

Feliciano was nowhere to be found, but Lovino assumed he was gallivanting downstairs, fixing up the cellar for this weekend. Maybe Tino was there too, because his usual presence in the kitchen was missing.

_Ding dong._

That was the doorbell. Somewhere through Lovino's sleepy haze, he felt a pang of annoyance, but reluctantly he walked to the door to answer. Without looking through the peephole, he unlocked and pulled it open, and it took him a moment to focus through the bright sunshine in front of him.

"Oh, Lovi! Did you just wake up?"

Lovino squinted, and was finally able to make out Antonio's tan, smiling face. He must have been too sleepy to be flustered, because he barely frowned, and instead just puckered his eyebrows in confusion. "Antonio? What the hell are you doing here?"

Antonio brightened at the sound of his name, and if possible his grin broadened. "You're so cute when you're sleepy Lovi! You look like a little kid."

At that a wave of heat flooded his cheeks and everything seemed like usual. "Shut up bastard, or else I'll slam this door in your face."

Antonio chuckled, and his eyes flashed disbelievingly. "All right. Well, I only stopped by for something to drink. Tino said he would bring something out."

"You came all the way over here for some of his shitty, lemonade?" Lovino raised an eyebrow.

Antonio's mouth twisted in amusement, Lovino wished he knew what it was. "Not exactly. I'm actually working on something outside."

"Huh? Oh, do you mean Feli's stupid garden?" Lovino rolled his eyes.

"Not this time!" Antonio said and leaned in close. "Do you want to see?"

"Um," Lovino breathed, partially desperate to move even closer. "Sure."

"Great," Antonio grinned and motioned for him to follow.

Lovino stepped outside in his sweatpants and t-shirt and hopped along the hot cement uncomfortably. They reached the side of the house right by Lovino's balcony, and Antonio waved to a small little plot of healthy dark soil, with several leafy plants scattered about.

"Oh, are those tomatoes?" Lovino asked, and he picked up the pace to reach the cool grass nearby.

"They are!~ I bought some yesterday," Antonio said proudly, obviously enjoying Lovino's expression.

Lovino didn't realize it at first, but he was smiling. And he was smiling willingly with eyes shimmering in excitement. He could be as open as a book at times, and Antonio loved to watch.

Then in another moment, Lovino seemed to notice Antonio's stare, and he bit his smile down to a forced frown. He eyed Antonio curiously. "Why the hell did you buy tomatoes?"

Antonio knelt near the plants and gave Lovino a suave grin. "Well, I saw you looking at them yesterday, and you seemed pretty excited about them. And I like tomato plants too, so I thought it might be fun to start another garden."

"I wasn't excited," Lovino insisted stubbornly, but his ears turned red.

"Oh, really?" Antonio stopped smiling briefly, but his eyes were playful. "Should I just take them back then? Or I could probably give them to Francis. He likes tomatoes somewhat."

Lovino pressed his lips together, unsure of how to respond in a way that wasn't outrageously embarrassing. "Well, they're already here. So we might as well just keep them."

Lovino missed Antonio's triumphant smile. "All right then."

"But you have to take care of them."

"Okay!"

"And water them."

"Okay!"

"And weed them or whatever the shit, because I'm not touching that."

"Okay!" Antonio agreed again, happy to have roped Lovino for more company. "What will you do then?"

Lovino flicked his eyes around nervously. "I'll just…"

"Yes?"

"I'll just," Lovino stumbled again and closed his eyes. "I'll just eat them."

Antonio was silent, and Lovino bit the inside of his cheek fearfully. Then he heard a comforting, masculine chuckle and opened his eyes.

Antonio was smiling at him, mouth, eyes, everything. "That's fine with me."

Lovino turned away embarrassed. "I just don't like gardening very much."

"Really? Why is that?"

"I don't know. I don't like getting all of that dirt on my hands," Lovino gestured to the dark soil.

"Hm, that's interesting," Antonio nodded and turned his attention to the plants. "I never really minded. My parents did though, so I got yelled at for playing in the dirt at home," he laughed and cupped his face in his stained palm. He gave Lovino a dashing smile, "But I did it anyway."

"Oh," Lovino replied. He sensed Antonio meant more than just gardening, but he was too shy to ask. "Are your parents still in Spain?"

Antonio sighed strangely, but a slight smile remained. "Yeah, they are. I was the only one who moved out here. I kind of followed Francis and Gilbert when they decided to move."

"Who's Gilbert?" Lovino asked.

"He's another good friend of mine. He and his brother live in town. They own a liquor store and bar. Though I guess Ludwig doesn't really do much for it. He's in school," Antonio pursed his lips in thought. "Gilbert's actually who I'm taking to the wine tasting! He knows a lot about alcohol, though he's the one that's a bigger fan of beer than wine."

Everything clicked into place and Lovino let out a large breath of relief. "Oh," he said, though there were so many things he was referring to. Without thinking he blurted, "I thought you were bringing a girl."

Antonio cocked his head to the side, his eyes glinting. "Why would you think that?"

"Uh," Lovino gasped, gripping his forearms nervously as he racked his brain for any excuse. "B-because Feli said you could take a date…I guess."

"Ah," Antonio nodded, his lips still turned up slightly. "That's interesting."

"No, not really," Lovino mumbled, suddenly very, very aware of how close they are. Why was it they always ended up so close together? It's unbearable.

From the corner of his eye he saw Antonio about to say something, and for once he couldn't read it in those open, green eyes. He wanted to hear it so badly, but then someone interrupted.

"There you are Toni! Did you already stop by the house? I thought I heard the doorbell."

Lovino jumped away, and began retracing his steps back to the house. He passed Tino, who was balancing a tray of lemonade and cups, and didn't say a word.

"Oh, Lovino, are you going already? I have some extra lemonade if you like," he offered as he called after him.

"No, it's fine. I should get dressed and whatever," Lovino replied hurriedly, desperate to run away. His heart twisted in guilt knowing that Tino caught him with Antonio.

"Will I see you later Lovi?" Antonio asked, and Lovino peered slightly over his shoulder to see Antonio standing up.

"I," Lovino stopped, weighing the different possibilities in his mind. "Wh-who knows, bastard," he snapped angrily, more out of frustration, and opened the door.

It closed hard, and he wasn't able to hear a response if there were any. For a long, drawn out few minutes he leaned against the wood and breathed heavily. Then Lovino hit his fist against the door and groaned.

Of course he'd see Antonio later.

 

~/~

 

In the mid-afternoon, as Lovino was shyly watching Antonio from his balcony he called Emma's number.

It rang only once, and she picked up. _"Hello! Who is this?"_

"This is Lovino," he said quietly, and began crawling back indoors so Antonio wouldn't hear. "How are you doing?"

_"Lovino! I'm wonderful, thank you! I'm so happy you called!"_

"Yeah," he scratched the back of his neck nervously, but his heart was calm. "I was thinking maybe we could meet up sometime this week. Maybe for dinner somewhere?"

 _"Oh, that would be lovely! I would love to! And I know the restaurants in town so well, so I can pick out the place if you like!"_ She babbled and Lovino pulled the phone away from his ear slightly.

"That's fine. Pick whatever you like," he insisted, though secretly he wanted to say Italian only.

_"Okay, that's so sweet of you! Let's see…do you think Thursday might work for you?"_

"Perfect," he said quickly. "I have to go now, but I'll call you later to ask about the restaurant."

_"Oh, well all right then! I'll give it a lot of thought! Bye, Lovi!"_

"Bye," he replied brusquely and ended the call. He closed his eyes, sighed, and finally laughed. This was good. He felt good. All of his guilt flew away, and he thought maybe now it would be okay if he ended up seeing Antonio again. Eventually, it would stop meaning something, right?

All he had to do was fall in love with Emma. Or at the very least, he should probably like her.

 

~/~

 

"Lovino?"

"Hm?"

"You have beautiful eyes," Antonio said, and Lovino finally managed to focus. He'd been staring at Antonio mindlessly, without thinking really, just watching him work.

But that comment caught him off guard and he flushed red from his ears to his neck and turned his eyes away. "What the hell are you talking about, bastard?"

"I was just giving you a compliment. I think about it a lot, so I figured I may as well tell you," Antonio replied simply, his smile evident in his voice.

"I don't like it," Lovino mumbled and looked down at his hands.

"What? Being complimented?"

"Yeah."

Lovino could hear him thinking.

"You just need to be complimented more! Don't worry, I'll fix that," Antonio exclaimed with a light chuckle and Lovino looked at him dubiously. "Oh, you know another thing I like? Your smile."

"I don't smile," Lovino declared boldly, and bit his bottom lip to fend off his amusement.

Antonio smirked knowingly. "Yes, you do. I've seen it. It's just not very often, so I have to wait for it. But you should do it more often. You have such a pretty smile."

Now Lovino's skin buzzed and he brought his knees to his chest to hide part of his face protectively. "Stop using words like that. I'm not a girl."

Antonio laughed easily, and moved closer to sit by Lovino's side. "I don't think pretty and beautiful only apply to girls."

"Well they do," Lovino insisted, and twitched when he noticed Antonio had neared so close. "And I'm not a girl, damn it."

Antonio laughed again, but this time it made Lovino's breath quicken. He looked at Lovino, eyes shining bright and bold, and his smile permanent on his lips.

"Don't worry, Lovi. I know."

 

~/~

 

"So Lovi, what are you doing today?" Feli asked at breakfast on a cloudy, Thursday morning. The sun had been in and out all week, but today things had taken a turn for the worse again, and the sky was a gloomy, stormy grey.

Lovino appeared very distracted by it, and kept his gaze wistfully out the window. "What?"

"I asked if you were doing something today," Feliciano repeated, watching his brother curiously.

It seemed to finally register with Lovino and he blinked from his reverie. "Oh, I'm going to town."

"Really? Oh good! Tino and I were thinking of making a cake today, so maybe if you go you could pick some ingredients up for us. Would you mind?"

Lovino blushed slightly, and he focused on his cooling toast. "I'm not going until night actually. I have a, um, date."

Feliciano stopped, gaped, and then squealed. "Aw, you have a date! Why didn't you tell me! Oh, Tino will be so excited! We can help you pick out your outfit if you want! We don't have much to do now that Saturday is fully planned. Who are you taking?"

Lovino picked up his coffee and took a sip. "Um, Emma. From Francis's party."

"Oh, her," Feliciano replied, his voice a bit higher. "She's…nice. She's very pretty. But I thought…well. I guess I always figured that you—that she wasn't your _type,_ I guess?"

Lovino scrunched his face in confusion. "What do you mean? What type?"

Feliciano's eyes widened, and he quickly backtracked to a fast smile and charming giggle. "Oh, never mind. It doesn't matter. I guess I was wrong. But you have to tell me more! Like when you're leaving, and where you're going. Are you going to bring anything for her?"

Lovino took his time answering the questions, and he was strangely composed throughout. He liked that Emma made him feel steady and like himself. He never felt thrown or on edge. It was just easy.

At times, Feliciano still looked at him a bit oddly. And that small comment about type scared him, but the conversation about Emma seemed to steer him away from that topic, and Lovino decided to ignore it.

 

~/~

 

When it was near dusk, Antonio sat thoughtfully at the picnic table, watching the shimmering light of the balcony and wondering what Lovino was doing. It seemed as if more and more, Lovino was always on his mind.

It felt like he might be falling in love with him. Antonio had never been in love, not really, but he'd had many crushes and flings in the past to recognize when he at least liked someone. This just...felt a bit different. Stronger, intoxicating, but also incredibly confusing.

He could never really tell what Lovino thought of him, his eyes were too guarded, too careful, they rarely gave him away. But perhaps that was what made him so alluring. Antonio wanted so desperately to solve the mystery and make Lovino smile, make him laugh and his gold eyes dance. It gave him a rush he'd never experienced before.

"So where is Lovino going for his date tonight?" Antonio asked smoothly, and the others at the table turned to him.

"Oh, I think I heard him say something about a French restaurant," Tino answered, and fixed the tray of lemon bars in the center of the table.

"Mon Ami."

"Yes, that's the one! Lovino should be leaving soon actually, since it takes a while to get there," Tino added after glancing at his watch. "Does anyone want a lemon bar by the way? I made them fresh today!"

Without saying a word, Berwald picked one up and began eating. Kiku politely declined and resumed reading his book, and Antonio sighed.

He'd known that Lovino would probably go on a date with Emma, especially after the way she looked at him on Monday; but it made him uneasy all the same.

"It's good," Berwald said simply and reached for another one.

"Really? I'm so happy! I tried to make them without Feli's help."

The rev of a motor caught Antonio's attention, and he watched very avidly when Lovino's black motorcycle crawled out of the garage, and picked up speed up the driveway.

Antonio sighed again and looked down at the table.

"Toni, are you okay?" Tino asked.

Antonio turned his gaze to him and smiled quickly. "Of course. Why do you ask?"

"Well, you've been sighing a lot. And usually you carry most of the conversation. It's not like they're big talkers," Tino said quietly and gestured to Berwald and Kiku sitting stoically on the other bench.

"Oh," Antonio laughed and shook his curls. "I'm fine. Just…thinking. That's all."

Tino nodded, taking this in. He was quiet for a moment, recounting some of the conversations he had with Feli. Then, tentatively, he added, "I don't think Lovino really likes Emma, you know."

Antonio blinked, surprised. "What?"

"I don't think Lovino really likes her. Feli and I think she might've asked him out and he didn't know what to say," Tino explained, and watched Antonio's face curiously.

Antonio thought about how clingy she was to him, how sweet and needy her words sounded. "Maybe," he nodded.

Tino eyed him. "So you don't need to worry, you know?"

Antonio looked up, very surprised, but caught Tino's reassuring smile and chuckled a bit bashfully.

"You should have some of my lemon bars to help you feel better!"

Antonio glanced at them, and caught Kiku shaking his head discreetly. "I think I'm good, thank you."

And in reality, he wasn't really hungry. He was too distracted. Perhaps later he'd go for a bike ride to clear his head. Maybe he'd run into Lovino. Maybe.

 

~/~

 

It was late when he decided to go out. The sun had long since set, and the only lights flickering belonged to the scattered rooms of the house, and the full, shining moon overhead. Antonio rolled his bike out and looked at the balcony. It was still dark, so Lovino must not be back yet. He couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. If Lovino stayed out all night, he's not sure what he'll do.

But he continued guiding his bike out of the shed, and hopped on. He pedaled up the shaky little road, pushing hard, and relaxed when he reached the main road. On instinct, he followed the way towards town, and pedaled smoothly. It'd rained a little while ago, but the clouds were clearing up. The road was pretty well illuminated by the moon and the few streetlights. It reminded Antonio a bit of Paris in the rain, though Francis would be insulted if he told him about that. There was just something about shining streets that reminded Antonio of Paris.

He continued biking along, a few cars passing by, but not many. At some point he was biking without any hands on the handlebars, and trying to guide it that way. Just as he was passing a bright streetlamp, he heard a fast motor approach. Antonio looked up, curious to see, and was startled to find it was Lovino's black motorcycle.

It approached fast, but as it neared Antonio, there was a flash of eyes, and Lovino lost control of the handle, and the motorcycle skidded off the road and into the grass. The motorcycle landed a ways away, with Lovino splayed about in a separate part.

At once Antonio's heart stopped. He jumped off his bike, tossing it into the grass on the other side and hurried over.

"Lovino!" He called, and crouched over Lovino's curled form to inspect him. "Lovino, are you all right?"

Antonio unclasped Lovino's helmet to look at him, and was relieved to see Lovino's face and head were unharmed. His eyes fluttered open, and he looked at Antonio rather confused. "Antonio? What the hell?"

Antonio's hand flew over Lovino's cheek, then forehead, then hair, before finally pulling him close. "I'm so happy you're alright. You had me so worried."

"I told you, I'm an excellent driver," he mumbled tiredly, not even caring he was pressed closely to Antonio's chest.

"You are all right, aren't you? You're not hurt anywhere?" Antonio pulled away, and began looking over his limbs. Antonio's fingers grazed over Lovino's side and he groaned. Antonio looked up, worried. "Does that hurt?"

"No," Lovino muttered, and tried to glare adamantly.

Antonio frowned and began pulling Lovino's jacket up anyway. "This is no time for you to be stubborn, you know."

"I'm not stubborn, damn it. Nothing's wrong!"

"You're bleeding," Antonio pointed out, and showed his red palm as evidence.

Lovino's eyes widened in panic. "I'm what?"

"You're bleeding," Antonio repeated, and looked back at the wound. It wasn't bad, but it was definitely going to bruise. It seemed as though he hit his side very hard, and the rough road managed to scrape through his jacket and give him a few nasty gashes. "Don't worry though, you'll be fine."

"I'm not fucking worried! You're the one who ran over here!" Lovino continued.

Antonio just rolled his eyes and continued looking over Lovino's stomach.

"And stop that! I'm—" Lovino was cut off by a short burst of laughter, and Antonio, momentarily distracted, lifted his hands away.

"Oh, you're ticklish," Antonio said with a smile.

"No, I'm not! Wait…" Lovino looked around, confused. "Where the fuck did my motorcycle go?"

"Um, I think it landed somewhere over there?" Antonio pointed behind him, and sure enough, a bit further into the grass laid the motorcycle, still spinning its wheels.

"God dammit," Lovino fell back in the grass. "What the hell am I going to do about that?"

"Well, I guess you could call the police," Antonio said and looked around the vast emptiness. "Or something."

Lovino closed his eyes. "Forget it. Hopefully it's not too banged up. I'll just make you go over there and turn it off."

"Wait, what?" Antonio turned around and stared at Lovino's reclining form. He thought about protesting, but then it occurred to him that Lovino might try and do it, and he stopped himself. "Just wait here," he said, and pushed himself off of the ground.

Lovino opened his eyes, apparently surprised Antonio agreed, and sat up. "You're actually doing it?"

Antonio kept walking but looked over his shoulder with a grin. "Of course, you asked me to."

Even in the moonlight, Antonio could see Lovino blush, and those gold-brown eyes sparkle so intensely, as if desperate to say something he couldn't with his voice. Then softly, he said, "Just be careful."

Antonio's chest swelled, and he tried to contain his laughter. Then he approached the motorcycle, quivering around in the grass, bent over it very cautiously, and found the key. He pulled it out quickly, and breathed when it switched off.

When he turned around to give Lovino a triumphant grin, he saw Lovino was already laying back down. Antonio walked back and sat beside him.

He glanced down at Lovino and could still make out his glowing cheeks.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Antonio asked tentatively.

Lovino's eyes flicked to his briefly and then looked down. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just embarrassed."

"Why's that?" Antonio tilted his head, and tried to get a better view of Lovino's face.

"I never fall," Lovino muttered and picked at some blades of grass.

Antonio chuckled, and brushed some of his curls away. "I did warn you Lovino. These roads aren't very well made. Especially for rain."

"Yeah, whatever," Lovino mumbled and flopped back on his back to stare at the sky.

Antonio looked at him, part of him hopeful. "Why'd you skid anyway?"

"Huh?" Lovino blinked.

"Why'd you skid? It seemed like you were distracted by something."

Lovino flushed and he gave Antonio a passionate glare. "I was not! I was just—I wasn't—I was…thinking. About something."

"Oh, is that so," Antonio looked at him with an amused smile. He was sure he caught Lovino staring at him before he lost control of the bike. The fact that Lovino was so evasive and blushing made his heart beat fast in excitement.

Lovino held his own though, and didn't budge his hard, shimmering eyes. "Yes. Now shut up, bastard."

Antonio laughed and looked up at the sky, admitting defeat. He really was falling in love.

"Whatever you say, Lovi."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Postulate - like a precursor to becoming a nun. You spend two years living in a convent to see if the lifestyle is suitable for you before transition into becoming a nun.
> 
> *Jeanne Romée - Jeanne d'Arc/Joan of Arc (the historical figure). I borrowed her mother's maiden name (Romée) in place of d'Arc, for various reasons.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I hope chapter four will be out soon, and I can see you very, very soon. I would love to hear what you your thoughts :)


	4. Vespaiola

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A walk home, some deliberation, wine tasting, and good bye.

Antonio helped Lovino walk home, insisting that Lovino leaned against him for support. And not too reluctantly, Lovino complied. It didn't last too long however, and after a few dozen steps Lovino was fast to push Antonio away with some rushed curses. It didn't seem to bother Antonio and he settled for walking by Lovino's side, keeping a light conversation going and easily avoiding the mention of Emma or his date. But Lovino didn't appear to be too keen on talking anyway. He looked absolutely drained.

As they were nearing Lovino's house, Antonio slowed his steps down. Lovino gave him a cursory glance, but didn't say anything; he wasn't in any hurry to go home anyway.

When he grew tired of the sound crickets and Antonio's breathing, Lovino decided to talk. "What are you going to do about your bicycle?"

Antonio turned to him smiling. "What do you mean?"

"Well," Lovino breathed, suddenly very distracted by those vibrant, green eyes. He looked down. "You just left it there. Are you going to get it tomorrow?"

"Oh. Actually I'll probably go back after I drop you off and get it," Antonio said easily, plucking a leaf from a passing tree.

Lovino frowned. "Don't say it like that. You're not dropping me off because I don't your help." He crossed his arms hurriedly, but hissed when he accidently brushed over his side.

"Are you okay?" Antonio asked, his body suddenly tense and his hand on Lovino's back.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Lovino muttered, and flushed red when he felt Antonio's hand. "I said I'm fine," he repeated and swatted Antonio away.

Antonio's lips twisted into a smile, but he didn't say anything and just hummed instead. Finally his green eyes looked away and glanced at the sky and the trees instead.

Lovino pursed his lips, somehow still annoyed with the Spaniard. Then he thought of his date with Emma and what she said and he bit his lip in thought. "Um, Antonio?"

" _Si_ ," Antonio turned to him quickly, softly lit under the moon.

Lovino blushed, realizing what a strange question it was and turned away. "Never mind."

"What?" Antonio leaned in and tried to catch his eyes. "Aw, Lovi. Don't do that. Just tell me!"

"No."

"Please?"

"No—the fuck? Get away! You're too close! I'm not asking you this!"

Antonio pulled back, slightly amused. "Oh, it's a question?"

"Doesn't matter," Lovino muttered and kept his face strictly forward.

Antonio looked at him, his green eyes glinting playfully, and smiled. "Should I guess what it is?"

Lovino rolled his eyes. "That would be stupid."

Antonio ignored him and pressed his fingers to his lips thoughtfully. "Do you want to know how tall I am?"

Lovino turned to him frowning.

"Where I'm from in Spain?"

Lovino groaned.

"How many siblings I have?"

Lovino kicked a rock.

"How many times I've been in love?"

Lovino paused, and without thinking looked up at him wide-eyed terrified. That wasn't what he wanted to ask at all. But the thought, _the mention_ , of Antonio in love just tore at his heart. He wasn't even breathing.

Antonio met his eyes straight-faced and strangely unreadable. Then in a blink he was grinning.

Before he could say anything Lovino looked away and interrupted. "I don't give a shit about that."

Antonio laughed lightly, and Lovino couldn't help but notice how different it sounded. Not as rough. Almost too smooth, too quick. It sounded fake. "I give up Lovino. I don't think I can guess."

"Figures," Lovino mumbled and shoved his hands in his pockets. He noticed they were close to the front door now, so perhaps he could try to ask, and if everything failed he could duck inside. His fingers gripped the fabric and he tried to work up the nerve. "I-it's just," he stopped in fear.

Antonio met his eyes and smiled encouragingly, urging him to continue. "Yes?"

Lovino blushed and shifted so that one of his hands was raking through his hair nervously. "W-well, I was talking to…Emma," he paused to sneak a glance at Antonio, but his expression was exactly the same. "And she said that she…t-tried to, um, well—ask y-you out."

"She did," Antonio said, his smile gone but his eyes alive in curiosity.

They both reached the door and Lovino stayed close to the door handle, whereas Antonio stood still not too far away. Maybe even too close for Lovino's liking.

"R-right," Lovino answered and curled his fingers around the cold metal, just in case. "W-well, she also said that you said no b-because she wasn't y-your…type," he waited a beat for Antonio to say something. He didn't. "A-and I was just wondering w-why."

It was quiet again, and the low chorus of crickets, wind, and rustling leaves filled the awkward void. Lovino was thankful for the night chill, and when it brushed over his warm cheeks he breathed easier. But then Antonio chuckled, musically and happily, and Lovino's heartbeat shifted to staccato.

"What is it?" Lovino snapped.

Antonio peered at him, eyes sparkling from laughter. " _Lo siento_ , it's nothing. I just find it sort of flattering you two talked about me on your date."

Lovino bristled, a new wave of ashamed heat rushing over his face, down his neck. "We didn't only talk about you! You were just a passing topic of conversation!"

"Oh, really?" Antonio asked, not bothering to hide his delight.

" _Yes, really_. She was the one who brought you up!" Lovino shouted.

Antonio's lashes fluttered in surprise. "Why would she want to talk about me?"

"She just," Lovino paused and his eyes flickered over Antonio's face anxiously, afraid of every possible answer. "She has this _theory_ about you, and I guess she thought I would know if she's right. Or not."

"Oh," Antonio drawled, lingering on the sound a bit too happily. He pressed his lips together in a small smile and asked, "So what do you think?"

"I," Lovino started, unsure, but also infuriatingly desperate to find out. When Emma proposed to him that she thought Antonio was gay, it didn't make him feel disgusted as it should have. Instead, his face lit up. It made him happy, hopeful, confused, scared, and more than anything just achingly curious. He wanted to ask questions like why, for how long, did he think it was okay, was he religious too; he wanted to ask Antonio everything.

But at the same time there was lingering feeling. An instinct, a habit. If it's true, he wanted to run away more than ever. It was too tempting.

Antonio was still looking at him, waiting patiently, his kind smile still hovering everywhere in the air, comforting him and making his skin buzz. He was waiting for Lovino to finish—Lovino thought Antonio knew what he's going to ask him. Maybe that should make it easier, but it doesn't.

Then the door swung open and florescent light illuminated them. It illuminated the situation too, and Lovino panicked inside. What was he thinking? He—

"Lovi!" Feliciano exclaimed, quickly enveloping his brother in an embrace. He pulled back and talked fast. "Why were you gone so late? Did the date go very well? But you're so dirty! What happened? Oh—Antonio! What are you doing here?"

Lovino held his head in frustration, meanwhile Antonio laughed.

"Hello Feli! Sorry to bother you, I was just helping Lovino home," he explained easily.

"You weren't helping me, because I don't need any help," Lovino contradicted and attempted to flash him a glare until those bright, green eyes were just too nerve-wracking too look at.

"Yes, of course. I was just accompanying Lovi home after he fell off of his motorcycle," Antonio corrected, amusement thick in his voice.

"You damn bastar—"

"What? Lovi! You fell off of your motorcycle? Are you okay? Are you hurt? It was the rain, wasn't it? Oh, no. _Nonno's_ going to be so upset when I tell him!" Feliciano rambled, his hands hovering over Lovino's body to over his head.

"I'm fine! It was just a slip. I wasn't hurt at all, so you sure as hell better not tell him about this," Lovino countered alternating his fist between Antonio and Feliciano.

"Ve~ you're sure?" Feliciano tilted his head, and looked at his brother with wide, worrying eyes.

"Yes, I'm sure. Not a scratch," Lovino insisted, deliberately ignoring the disapproving sighs from Antonio's direction. "Come on Feli, let's just go inside." He pushed Feliciano towards the doorway, following closely behind him.

"Aw, let me just say good night to Toni! He did help you out!" Feli said and maneuvered out of Lovino's grasp to give Antonio a quick hug. " _Grazie_ Toni! I know Lovino can be rude, but I'm sure he was happy to have you with him," he proclaimed boldly, and took a step closer to whisper something in Antonio's ear.

"Hey!" Lovino yelled, ears hot with embarrassment. He didn't like how Antonio's face brightened with interest at whatever Feli was saying. "Hey! What the hell are you doing?"

Feliciano turned around, smiling and giggling. "Nothing! Just telling him good night!"

"Good night my ass! Whatever, just get in the fucking house," Lovino shouted tiredly, groaning aloud when Feli gave Antonio another hug. Finally, Feliciano skipped away and hopped back into the house. Lovino lingered by the doorway, holding the frame and looked awkwardly at Antonio.

"Wasn't there something you wanted to ask me?" Antonio asked, his face more confident than it was before, his eyes strong and emerald.

Lovino ducked his face away, too afraid. "It doesn't matter," he muttered quietly, feeling too painfully obvious under the scrutinizing light.

But Antonio didn't press, and suddenly Lovino felt a hand on his shoulder and he whipped around. Antonio grinned at him, tan skin and white teeth shining in the half-light, but eyes gentle and sincere.

"Well, you can ask me later if you like. Good night, Lovi," he said.

Lovino felt too warm. "Yeah," he choked and took a step away from Antonio's touch, and through the doorway. He held the door, ready to close it and stopped to watch Antonio leave.

When Antonio was well past the house and half-way down the path he looked over his shoulder, and Lovino squeaked in horror and slammed the door shut. His heart was beating frantically, pulsing in his chest, but still, through the door and the distance, he could hear Antonio laughing. Maybe he couldn't have really heard it, but he simply knew it was there anyway.

"That bastard," he muttered and stumbled towards the kitchen.

Feliciano was there, scooping out ice cream, and looked up when he heard Lovino. "Oh, so Lovi, how was your date?"

Lovino fished an opened bottle of wine from the refrigerator. "Fine," he said simply.

"Was it fun?" Feliciano asked, intently watching his brother's face.

Lovino pulled out a glass and started pouring. "Yeah. Emma's nice."

"Hm," Feli hummed. "Are you going to invite her to the wine tasting on Saturday?"

"Yeah," Lovino answered, then took a sip and spoke again. "Maybe. I don't know."

"Why is that?" Feliciano prodded, his brown eyes glittering with interest.

"Um, well," Lovino scratched his head and his cheeks warmed. "She's just a bit forward. She might take it the wrong way."

Feliciano bit back a smile. "Oh, that's interesting. You don't like that she's forward?"

"I-it's just kind of uncomfortable," Lovino admitted and poured another glass of wine. Then he realized something and his face gleamed in anger. "And by the way, what the fuck were you whispering to Antonio about?"

"Oh, nothing!" Feliciano giggled. "Don't worry about it!"

"It wasn't nothing, damn it. Just tell me!" Lovino demanded, pointing at Feliciano with his glass.

"Well," Feli began dramatically. "I only thanked him for helping you. And I said that you seemed to like being around him."

Lovino's breath hitched. "I _what_?"

Feliciano blinked, confused about the change in his brother's voice. "It seems like you like him, that's all."

"Why would you think that? Because I don't like him— _at all_ ," Lovino snapped, his eyes wide in worry and fear.

"Really? It just looked like when you two are together, you seem happy," Feli said, trying to understand his brother's lies.

Lovino turned around, tired of being stared at. "I'm never happy when I'm with him. I hate it. I hate it so much."

"But," Feli protested, and caught himself when he caught Lovino's shoulder's quivering. He didn't want to make his brother sad, but it just seemed so obvious, he didn't understand the lie. So he decided to let it go for the night, and exhaled quietly. "All right, _scusa_."

Lovino stopped shaking but kept his back turned. Then he grabbed the bottle of wine and stomped towards the stairs.

Feliciano watched his brother go and echoed a lonely " _buonanotte_ " to himself.

 

~/~

 

The next morning, Lovino woke up aching everywhere and with a head that seemed too cloudy to think. He'd drunk too much wine the night before. Somehow, with closed eyes he managed to find his phone, poised precariously on the nightstand where he'd left it, and he hung it before his face to check the time.

It was already noon.

He groaned, and dropped the phone back on the bed. There was so much to do before he was supposed to leave, what was he thinking letting himself sleep in this late? What was Feliciano thinking?

Against all odds, he got up and went through the hangover routine. Drink water, take a shower, brush his teeth, put on new clothes, and go downstairs to consume some sort of bread. There was still a lingering feeling of guilt in his head from abandoning Feliciano last night, but with all that happened, he had no option but to brush him off.

Tino was in the middle of the kitchen staring at a vase of flowers looking remarkable confused.

When he heard Lovino's clumsy footsteps echo into the room, he turned around with a quick smile. "Oh, Lovino! You're finally up! Feliciano already left for town to get some groceries. He thought he'd let you sleep in."

"That's fine," Lovino grumbled, as he began slicing through a loaf of bread.

"How was your date last night?" Tino asked, alternating his glances from Lovino to the flowers again.

"It was fine," Lovino replied automatically and pushed the bread into the toaster. He was tired of people asking him about it. When he finally noticed the outrageous bouquet of flowers he changed the subject, "What the hell are those?"

Tino's face brightened, almost bashful. "These? Oh, I'm not exactly sure. They were on the doorstep this morning. At first I thought they might be for you, from Emma," he said, gesturing to the flowers again. "But um, the card said they were for, um, me."

"Uh-huh," Lovino mumbled in acknowledgment, roaming his eyes over the strange accents of pinecones and twigs. "Who are they from?"

"Well," Tino giggled, taking out a small white card. "It doesn't say. I think it's from a secret admirer."

Lovino almost rolled his eyes. This was all too ridiculous to him. Secret admirers and anonymous bouquets? He didn't think people still did that.

But the look of confused happiness on Tino's face…dammit. It kind of made him jealous.

The toast popped out and Lovino awkwardly pushed it onto a plate. "So you have no idea who it is?"

Tino hummed in thought. "No, I don't think so. I don't talk to many people in town really."

Lovino shook his head, tired and annoyed with the situation. "Well, I'm going outside to eat," he announced, and walked out of the kitchen.

"Oh, there's something outside for you too!" Tino called after him, loud like it just occurred to him.

Lovino already had his hand on the doorknob and was pulling it open. He raised an eyebrow and asked, "What the hell would there be for me?" Tino didn't have to answer though, because with the door partially open he already caught view of his shiny, black motorcycle – a bit dented in parts, but otherwise okay – leaning against the side of the house.

At once, he knew who did it, and he couldn't help but blush in happiness. It was stupid, reckless, and really just stupid. Did Antonio really waste his night moving Lovino's motorcycle from its battered landing all the way over here? That idiot. That dumb, sweet idiot.

When he caught himself for saying the word sweet in his mind, his ears reddened too. Since he was still in the doorway, and Tino was still standing in the other room, waiting for his reaction, Lovino cleared his throat. Then quietly, he mumbled. "So Antonio moved it?"

"He did! Berwald was here this morning when I was picking up the flowers, and he said Antonio drove the truck out last night and picked up the motorcycle. Then I guess he brought it back here," Tino explained, still preening the various elements in the bouquet.

Lovino's heart stuttered, but he kept his voice the usual and asked, "So where's the idiot now?"

"Hm, I think he's still in the fields. They're probably going to have lunch soon though, and I think I'll drop off some lemonade. Would you like to come with me?"

"No," Lovino replied quickly, and he shut the door. "I'm going to go check on the cellar for tomorrow."

"Oh, okay," Tino said, and watched Lovino head towards the stairs curiously. "You know Feli already set everything up, right?"

"Yeah, whatever," Lovino muttered and disappeared around the corner. He wasn't going to take any chances of seeing Antonio today. He might have to see him tomorrow, but at least today…he needed to away from him. Away from that smile, those eyes, and all of the burning desire to ask that damned question. Why did Emma ever have to bring it up?

 

~/~

 

After lunch, Antonio took a walk up the trail, set on taking a small siesta under that lemon tree. But he'd be lying if he wasn't hoping to see Lovino somewhere near too.

As he neared he caught a glimpse of dark hair and tan skin, but once he was within seeing distance he could tell it was lighter brown hair, and fairer tan skin. Feliciano was sitting on the bench near the tomato plants scribbling something in a blue book. While Antonio was internally debating whether to stop by or not, Feliciano heard his footsteps and looked up. He smiled brightly and waved, and Antonio couldn't escape going over.

" _Ciao_ Antonio, how are you?" Feliciano asked and patted a spot next to him for Antonio to sit down.

He did, and returned the smile. "I'm good. Kind of tired. Very sore," he laughed rubbing the muscles in his arm. Antonio noticed the melancholy air surrounding Feliciano and tilted his head. "What's wrong Feli?"

"Oh," Feliciano caught himself and laughed. "I'm sorry, it's nothing. I was just thinking about things. It's been pretty busy lately."

Antonio nodded and looked out at the vineyards. " _Si_ , I agree. There's always a lot to do." He closed his eyes and breathed in the fresh air hungrily. "But there's the wine tasting tomorrow. That's something to look forward to." Oddly enough, he was.

Feliciano giggled again, slightly happier. "That's true. It will be. I'm excited for everything. I'm just a bit sad," he said, looking down at his book. It looked like a jumble of sketches and words. "Lovino's leaving the day after."

Antonio blinked. "What?"

"Lovino's leaving," Feliciano repeated, and he shut his book with a sigh. "I knew he was leaving soon, but I thought maybe it'd be in another week."

"Wait…" Antonio tried to wrap his head around this. Why had he thought Lovino would be here forever? That there were hundreds of days in front of them? "So Lovino, when he said he was visiting…that means he still lives in Verona?"

Feliciano drummed his fingers over his book. "Not exactly. Lovino works here mainly. He and I run this property. But Lovino also runs the marketing ends and the business side. He's going to San Francisco for a bit, but then I think he'll be traveling to Los Angeles, New York, and probably Verona after." Feliciano hung his head and added, "But I don't know when he's coming back. I'm going to be so lonely without him."

"Yeah," Antonio said, numb, confused, thoughtful. "So will I."

There was a quiet moment, filled with feeling and agitation. Feli spoke again, "He changed his flight."

"Huh?"

"He changed it. He wasn't supposed to leave this week."

"Oh," Antonio echoed, trying to climb out of the daze. "Why?"

"He wouldn't say," Feliciano hummed, and his eyes passed over Antonio's with a keen shine.

Antonio read his expression curiously, and guessed, "But you know."

Feliciano pursed his lips and stared at Antonio, debating what and what not to say. "I think," he began slowly. "I think Lovino's a bit confused right now."

Antonio held his gaze, not daring to hope anything. "About what?"

"He," Feliciano looked at the ground, trying to find his words. "Well, _we_ went to a pretty strict Catholic school for a while. I didn't pay much attention really, but Lovino was very affected by it." Feliciano pushed a rock around with his shoe. "I think he's confused about what he thinks is right. And what he wants."

"Is your family very strict too?"

"Oh no," Feliciano waved his hand with a ready smile. "I don't think our grandfather cares about religion at all. Most Italians are Catholic, but not many are very strict about it."

Antonio exhaled, very relieved. "That's good. It's always harder with families."

Feliciano's eyes glinted, but he continued anyway, and said, "Well, I think Lovino's still scared about many things. He's very desperate to do what's right."

"Is that so?" Antonio replied, his heart alive with confidence. This seemed like a confirmation of what he'd been dreaming he's been seeing. It wasn't much, but there were times when he thought he deciphered those molten gold-brown eyes, and he could read desire and fear sparkling across mysteriously. And although Lovino was so often blushing – and it was completely adorable – sometimes it felt as though he was redder near him. Lovino was like a little sun to Antonio. He was warm, burning, untouchable, but Antonio wanted to get closer. He needed the sun. It was everything to him.

But would Lovino ever come close? He was already flying away, and it hadn't yet been a month. If only Lovino talked to him, maybe Antonio could help him understand. Because he knows what it's like to be confused, afraid, criticized; he's known much worse.

"I meant what I said by the way."

Antonio's breath hitched, and he turned back to Feliciano. "What?"

"Last night. Lovino does like you. I can tell."

Antonio laughed, a bit disbelievingly, but also ecstatic that perhaps Feliciano might be telling the truth. Interested is one thing, but he didn't think Lovino actually liked him at all.

"Antonio," he said, calling his attention. Feliciano looked at him boldly, trying his best to convince him, because he knew it. He knew his brother better than anyone else. "Trust me. He does."

Antonio smiled quietly. He wondered if that was a good thing or a bad thing. He had hope, but he had already lost so many people he loved because of who he was. His heart had been shattered too many times before his friends put him back together. It hurt him so much, it was a crippling loneliness, because there was no way he knew to fix it. There was nothing he could do. Pretending was hard for him. Some could, but Antonio found it hard to be anything but himself. It was always that way.

But…maybe he'd take a chance on Lovino.

He laughed again. It's not like he had a choice anyway.

 

~/~

 

"Lovi!" Emma exclaimed and captured him in a hug.

Lovino stumbled, trying to catch his balance, and his nose was all of a sudden overwhelmed by tulips and vanilla.

She pulled back with a sly smile and kissed him fast on the lips. Her eyes twinkled and she said, "I missed you."

Lovino stood there still a bit stunned. Everything happened in a matter of seconds, but for most of it he was distracted by the tall, looming figure behind her. "Um, who's that?"

"Oh," Emma turned around and nudged the man. "This is my brother! I told you about him, remember? His name's Tim."

Lovino warily looked at him. Tim wasn't as tall as Berwald, but he was definitely taller than Antonio. It kind of pissed him off that there were so many tall people floating around.

Then suddenly Tim was in front of him extending his hand. "Hello, Lovino. Nice to meet you."

Lovino clasped hands with him. It was hard to tell if he meant it. "Nice to meet you too." He paused, waiting for his hand to be released. It wasn't and Tim kept staring at him with frosty blue eyes. "Um, Emma told me about the wedding. I'm sorry I can't go."

Tim let go of his hand. "It's fine." He looked through the door. "You have a nice house," he commented and walked in.

"Um, thanks," Lovino muttered, watching him wander around the hallway touching the vases and lamps. He looked back to Emma and raised an eyebrow. "What the hell was that about?"

Emma giggled and patted Lovino shoulder. "I'm sorry. I think he's just happy to meet you."

"That was happy?"

Her smile twisted secretly. "Well, I think he's happy that you're rich actually. He's always been worried I would marry someone poor."

"Oh, well I guess that," he stopped, repeating her words in his head. "Wait **—** _marry_?" His voice rose in panic, but he hoped his face was at least smooth.

Emma didn't even bother to answer, and swiftly hooked her arm through Lovino's and steered him into the house.

 

~/~

 

"Oh, so this is what a cellar looks like, huh?" Emma commented, twisting her figure all around to get all views of the candle-lit place. "It's rather cold in here though."

"Well, eleven degrees Celsius is considered the perfect temperature for storing—what are you doing?" Lovino stared at Emma who'd deftly managed to loop her arms around Lovino's again, making him lean further to the side in his chair.

She looked up at him through her lashes, eyes shining more yellow than green. "Just keeping warm."

Lovino couldn't help but roll his eyes, and when Emma laughed at that, he just sighed. This was going to make it rather inconvenient to talk to Roderich, but hopefully Emma would let him go for that.

So far there were a few people scattered around, Emma's brother being one of them. He was busy inspecting the collection of wine bottles though. Probably looking for a price-tag, Lovino thought. Then there was a sudden rush of noise, obnoxious voices all mixed together, and Lovino knew the main crowd had arrived.

"So who else is coming," Emma asked, glancing down at her phone once before shoving it away in her purse.

"Um, well Roderich and Elizaveta for one," Lovino said as he pointed to the couple walking down the stairs. Then a silver-haired, ivory pale man jumped down the steps, looking very rowdy in torn jeans and a leather jacket. Lovino narrowed his eyes in confusion, but when Antonio's bright face appeared, everything fit together. Lovino averted his eyes with an embarrassed blush. "A-and Antonio brought his friend Gilbert."

"Is that so," Emma said, and her gaze stayed on the duo as they sat down near Elizaveta and Roderich. It didn't escape her attention how Antonio's eyes immediately darted around the room in search of someone. When they landed on Lovino, who was still busy staring at his hands, Emma pursed her lips in suspicion. Antonio followed the link between Lovino and Emma, and he matched her gaze.

He gave her a small smile, but even from across the room, Emma could tell it was mocking. He didn't even seem annoyed, which in turn made Emma all the more so.

So she curled her lips in a cat-like smile and whispered into Lovino's ear, "Lovi…" Her eyes flicked across the room again. "Antonio's looking at us."

His head shot up, first in Emma's direction, then tentatively in Antonio's. He was still watching, and that alone made Lovino's face redden. How could he be so warm when it was supposed to be so cool down here? To make matters worse, it looked like Antonio was laughing. He seemed amused by something.

"Um," Lovino breathed, desperate for air all of a sudden. "I don't know why. He's probably bored. Or something."

"Maybe," Emma said, and kissed Lovino's cheek playfully. She frowned when it didn't seem as though Antonio noticed.

Feliciano walked in with Tino behind him; Tino was carrying another basket of pieces of bread, and laid on the table with the others. Feliciano was well dressed in slacks and a dark purple button-down, and seemed almost giddy as he started opening the first bottle.

Lovino had sort of insisted it should be Feliciano leading the wine tasting, not only because he's the more charming, sociable one, but Lovino also has very little patience for people who don't know anything.

As Lovino was looking around the room again, making very sure to miss Antonio's little corner, and he spotted an unknown blond man. He didn't look like anyone he'd met or talked about.

"Feli," Lovino called and tried to get his brother's attention.

After some snapping and wild hand gestures, Feliciano finally noticed and skipped to Lovino's side. "What is it?"

"Who's that guy over there?"

Feliciano matched where he was pointing and stared. "Oh! That's another wine critic. He works for a newspaper in San Francisco."

"Really."

" _Si_! It was actually Alfred who mentioned him to me. His name's Matthew. Apparently they're brothers, isn't that strange?"

Lovino noticed how reserved he was, keeping to himself and writing in his Moleskin notebook. "Yeah, I guess. When are we starting by the way?'

Feliciano glanced down at his watch and jumped. "Oh! We should be starting now actually!" He hurried back to the center table and steadied himself. " _Ciao_ everyone! I'm Feliciano Vargas, co-manager of the _Tesoro_ brand here in California. We're going to go through a series of our most popular wines today." He held up one of the bottles for a moment before passing it onto Tino. "And we're going to start with our Valpolicella wine. It's a red wine made from Corvina Veronese, Rondinella and Molinara, and it's famous for being from the province of Verona."

Tino went around pouring everyone a small serving of the wine.

"This is a light, fragrant wine that compliments almost any meal," Feliciano went on, and he joined everybody in taking a sip. His was a larger portion though, and he finished it quickly.

Lovino watched as Roderich and Matthew went about it in the familiar, meticulous manner most wine critics do. Hold the glass up and examine the color, a quick swirl, then bring it to your nose and take in the scent, and finally take a sip. Of course, after a few moments, they both spit it out in the cup placed beside them – if you're going to be evaluating one wine after the other, it's only appropriate to be sober when doing so.

On instinct, Lovino also glanced at Antonio, to see his reaction. It didn't look like he was too pleased by the wine. His face was slightly scrunched in displeasure. Lovino rolled his eyes. That man just can't handle red wine.

"Okay, now we're going to try a different variety of the same wine, called Amarone della Valpolicella. This is typically a richer, dry red wine made from partially dried grapes of the Corvina, Rondinella, as well as some others." Again, Feliciano finished his glass in no more than two gulps.

Lovino knew he was going to be tipsy by the end of this.

Roderich seemed pleased with the wine. Matthew slightly ambivalent. And of course, Antonio was very, very displeased, but finished the glass nonetheless. Too damn polite for his own good, Lovino thought.

Tino went around with the basket of bread and offered to everyone who wanted it to cleanse their palates.

"Moving right along," Feliciano clapped, excited. "We have the Recioto della Valpolicella. This is a sweet red wine typically paired with chocolate desserts because of its high acidity in cocoa."

Roderich and Matthew both appeared rather happy. Elizaveta finished Roderich's glass one he was finished with his demure sip. Gilbert wasn't very shy about showing his distaste. He blatantly stuck his tongue out and handed the glass to Antonio who, unsurprisingly, was inhaling the wine with a happy smile.

Lovino rubbed his temples. If Antonio was going to drink his wine and Gilbert's, and not spit out any of it…Well shit. He looked like a lightweight.

 

~/~

 

At the seven wine mark, they were drinking a light, white wine, and those that had been drinking full glasses were getting pretty tipsy. Most noticeably was Elizaveta, who was fawning over Roderich's shoulder and playing with a strange hair loop. Gilbert was rowdy, but Lovino assumed that was more by his own doing and that mysterious flask than the wine. He'd already jumped across the room to invade Matthew's personal space: doodling birds all over Matthew's notebook. Someone might've said something if it looked like Gilbert was actually bothering him, but it appeared as though Matthew was actually enjoying the scene.

Emma was almost sleeping on Lovino's shoulder; she was obviously the type that got sleepy when drunk. Lovino secretly made a note of that. He tried to catch Tim's attention, so someone would lift her body off of his, but it looked like he was busy smuggling the wine into a plastic bottle.

They were on their tenth wine now, the last one. Feli was laughing and joking, and Tino was going along with him. Gilbert was still drawing with Matthew, Elizaveta seemed content with her work on playing with Roderich's face, and finally Tim decided to drag Emma's body away to lay down on a comfortable bench near him.

Lovino sighed in relief, it tired him out to support her. He doesn't dislike her, really. There's something sweet and salty about her personality that intrigues him in a way, because he can never really predict her. At the same time however, he can't help but feel trapped with her. She wants to do things that he just doesn't. Kissing's one problem, but even touching is just odd. Like bland and weird at the same time.

With the wine tasting coming to a close, Lovino glanced over at Antonio, who he'd be tactfully avoiding since Emma latched onto him. But it was strange. Antonio didn't seem…happy. He was smiling, sure, but what did that smile really mean? He was always fucking smiling. There was something more in his expression. He wasn't talking, only a few words to Roderich, but instead he was focused on the wall rather thoughtfully. His eyes looked so far away. There was a glimmer in them from the lamp, and they were just melancholy. Lovino wished he could go over there and pull Antonio back to him. The Antonio that infuriated and embarrassed him so much.

At the closing, Gilbert suddenly stood up and walked over to the center table. He raised a flask, a different one than before and prepared to make a speech. "Ladies and gentlemen," he turned his head towards Matthew to offer an exaggerated wink. "There's a special announcement I'd like to make."

"Oh, shit," Lovino muttered.

"Well, I have two actually. No—three. Yeah, three," he nodded to himself. "So first of all, I'd like to announce that my little brother, the notorious Ludwig, has earned a shadowing position for my dear, dear ex, Dr. Eilzaveta Edelstein." There were scattered claps around, but only Elizaveta gave any approving "whoos." Gilbert cleared his throat. "And secondly, I'd like everyone to meet my new friend, who's sitting right over there," he twisted around with a point. "Matthew Williams. The hottest new guy in town. Go check him out, but not really. Because seriously I just called dibs."

Matthew's smile disappeared beneath his hands, but even with his face covered his ears were still radiating a bright red.

Gilbert laughed, and wobbled as he tried to remember what came next. He stood to attention, his hand slamming on the table in exaggeration. "Three! Because I just can't leave him out: my best friend Antonio deserves a shout-out," he flashed his shining, white teeth. "Even though he's a goofball, and hopeless, and too nice, and always outside for one reason or another…He's a pretty good guy." Gilbert stopped, and Antonio laughed. "And listen man, I'm sorry you're not rich anymore. But I promise one day I'll make enough money for the both of us and we'll never have to work again."

Lovino's shoulders stiffened; that last part was unexpected. Gilbert's drunk out of his mind, but what does it mean when he says Antonio's not rich anymore. He had money once? How'd he lose it? Gambling? Was it stolen? It's so vague, what the fucking hell?

Demanding more answers, his eyes flicked to Antonio again, but he was shrugging his shoulders helplessly with a light chuckle, as if saying, "I'm sorry, but what can I do?"

Lovino felt angry at him. He was angry at him for not being angry himself.

Now that Gilbert was running up the steps however, Feliciano took it upon himself to state a few parting words, mentioning things about how and where to purchase wine, our website, and what's coming next for us. Matthew approached him with his notebook and they struck up a conversation. Lovino thought about visiting Roderich, but he seemed fairly preoccupied with convincing Elizaveta towards the exit. Perhaps he could just email Roderich later.

"Good bye Lovino," Tim said.

Lovino turned to his side and Tim was carrying Emma over his shoulder, with his right hand extended.

"Oh," Lovino breathed. "Good bye. Sorry about Emma."

"She'll be fine," Tim answered calmly, and started following the rest up the stairs. He was most definitely carrying a bag of red and yellow covered bottles.

Antonio wasn't downstairs, Lovino noticed. And the realization made his heart lonely. So with fleeting hope, he followed the crowd and went up to the foyer. Feliciano was the kissing cheeks of every person walking through the door, the last he met was Tim, who had to bend over rather awkwardly with all that he was carrying. But of course, Feliciano managed, and Tim left with another nod in Lovino's direction.

Feliciano closed the door and waved his hand next to his face, trying to fan himself. "Finally. I was getting so warm! I think I need to take a shower or something," he commented, walking towards the kitchen in search of some ice.

Lovino awkwardly stood by as Feliciano passed in front of him. "Um," he called quietly, shyly.

Feliciano didn't turn around but echoed a loud, " _Si_!"

Lovino took a deep breath. "D-did Antonio already leave?"

At the sound of that name, Feliciano's face shot in his direction. "Antonio? Why do you want to know?" It wasn't accusatory, it almost sounded ecstatic.

"I just," Lovino looked down, his cheeks burning. He was telling himself it was the wine that was making him do this. It was only the wine. "I-I'm leaving tomorrow, so I thought maybe I'd just say goodbye."

He couldn't see Feliciano's expression, but he expected an obnoxious smile. "I think that's a great idea. I think he went over to the lemon tree. The one over there."

"Oh, okay," Lovino mumbled, knowing straightaway which one it was. It's the tree Antonio always rested under. Lovino has seen him there many times. "W-well, I'll be right back."

"Take your time!" Feliciano called, giggling.

 

~/~

 

Antonio was there. He was sitting cross-legged, his arms hunched over his knees, watching over the view of the vineyards as they rolled over the hills. As quietly as he could, Lovino walked over, but he stumbled over some twigs and pebbles, so Antonio was quick to notice him.

Antonio turned around, tan skin and green eyes lit by the waves of sunlight and shadowed by the leaves, he looked so mysterious, so out of Lovino's reach all of a sudden. But then he smiled, warm and invitingly as usual, and Lovino's breath came easier.

"Lovino," Antonio said, his accent a bit rougher. "Are you coming to join me?" He gestured to a place next to him, inviting Lovino to sit down.

Lovino hesitated, unsure of how to answer. Of course he had come to join him, but it seemed like giving in to just do it. But he gritted his teeth and gave a curt, "Yes." Then he plopped down in a second, and settled a good foot away from Antonio.

"How very kind of you," Antonio jeered joyfully, his voice much brighter than his eyes. There was still something foreign in them that Lovino couldn't understand.

They held eye contact for too long, and Lovino quickly whipped his gaze to the grass. He picked at the blades and tossed them around. "So how did you like the wine?"

"It was good!" He said straight-away, then he pursed his lips and laughed. "Well, I liked the dessert wines a lot. But some of the white wines are nice too. I think red is just a bit difficult for me."

Lovino groaned. "You know, red wine is the true wine. They say to never trust a person who loves white wine."

"They say that?" Antonio asked, a bit surprised. "I don't think I've ever heard that before."

"Why would you?"

Antonio's smile tightened in secretive amusement. "Well, I may not know wine, but my parents did. They tried to teach me all sorts of stuff about it. They didn't make it or anything, but it was one of their passions."

"Oh," Lovino said, confused and interested at the same time. "I didn't know that."

"Mhm," Antonio hummed, smiling a bit broader. He leaned his arms behind himself, almost grazing Lovino with his fingertips in the process.

The almost was enough to make Lovino's heart race in anticipation. He found himself breathless again, and his forehead beaded sweat nervously. Now he debated whether this was a bad idea. The wine really was getting to him. What was he thinking talking to Antonio now? He could've not done anything and left tomorrow. What was this leading to? Lovino shouldn't be talking to him more than he has to. This is dangerous. This is…this is…

Antonio chuckled.

"W-what are you laughing at, bastard?" Lovino asked defensively, his hands tightening in a grip on his pants.

Antonio turned to him, face charming. "Nothing. I'm just happy. I was worried I might not see you before you leave."

"Oh," Lovino looked down ashamed. "You know?"

"Feliciano told me. I was pretty surprised."

Lovino's heart stuttered nervously, guiltily. "Yeah, well, there's stuff to do and…stuff. I have to visit places and talk to people and all that."

Antonio nodded in understanding. "Sounds busy."

"It is."

The birds chirped. It looked like the sun would set soon.

"How long will you be away for?"

"Um," Lovino paused and picked up a flower. "I-I'm not sure." He pressed his lips together and thought. "Three months maybe?" Lovino could feel eyes on his back.

"Three months?"

"Yeah."

The irrigation turned on, and they both decided to stare at that.

"That's a long time," Antonio commented, his smile falling away.

Lovino nodded his head in silent agreement. His throat felt tight right now. He just wanted to cry into Antonio's arms for some reason. For any reason. Maybe for everything.

"Antonio…" Lovino began reluctantly. He shut his eyes in dread.

"Yes?"

"C-can I ask you that question from the other day?"

Antonio's eyelashes fluttered as he remembered. " _Si_ , of course."

Lovino picked at the petals, plucking one out every second. "Um, a-are you like, attracted to women?"

There was a pause. Lovino hated it.

He heard Antonio breathe, and then say, "Yes."

Now Lovino's heart stopped. This was even worse. How could he have been so stupid to even assume? It was so embarrassing. What would Antonio think of him now? So stupid. He's just so incredibly stupid.

But a few seconds later, Antonio was sitting upright again, his hand right next to Lovino's. "But," Antonio began, a smile in his voice. "I'm also attracted to men."

Everything stopped.

Lovino turned around, not even stunned by the proximity. He was so close to Antonio now, he could see everything: the freckles near his nose, the sunburn on his neck, even the enigmatic mist to his emerald-green eyes. Antonio was thinking something Lovino couldn't figure out, maybe that he didn't know, or maybe he just didn't understand. And Antonio's hand: he was touching it. It was warm. That's not surprising, Lovino was sure every part of Antonio was warm, he doubted if he was ever less than room temperature.

But what he said: he's attracted to women and men. Lovino's heard of that of course, but what does that mean? Is that a good thing?

He never looked away from Antonio, and breathed, "Oh." His eyes flickered all around. "That's, um, different."

Antonio laughed quickly, shortly, it sounded almost nervous. "I suppose it is." His hand moved, and Lovino wished so much it wouldn't have.

From the corner of his eye he watched Antonio intertwine his fingers together. It looked like he was trying not to let his stress show. On impulse Lovino muttered, "But, um," he paused when Antonio looked to him again. "I-it's not bad."

Antonio's eyes widened, sparkling in bewilderment. Then his lips turned up, it was much more sensitive smile than Lovino had ever seen. "Thank you," he said.

"Whatever," he mumbled, turning his flushed face away.

There was another silence. It was filled with Antonio's happy aura.

"What about you?" He asked.

Lovino choked on his surprise. "Huh?"

It was lucky Lovino couldn't see the amusement sparking across Antonio's face. He repeated, "Are you attracted to women?"

"Um," he began, desperate for some sure-fire answer that wouldn't come. Was he? It's not that he didn't like to look at women. He even found them pretty. He complimented them all the time. Kissing them wasn't disgusting. It was boring, but he wasn't repulsed. The only thing is…

The thought of marrying one. Of spending the rest of life with one girl: that seemed impossible. Like he just couldn't do it. He wanted that life. He wanted so much to have the normal, standard future, with a wife and kids; but he just, he doesn't know if he could go through with it. And having sex with a girl? His body grew cold at the thought.

But admitting he wasn't attracted to girls. Well, it hasn't been proven that he wasn't yet. And he wanted to be. He really, really does. Because Lovino just can't be gay, he just can't. If he was, he would be everything wrong, and he's already such a screw-up.

"I," he started again. "Yeah."

Another pause. Antonio took it in: Lovino's posture, the closed eyes, the shaking hands. _He was lying._

"Oh, I see," Antonio replied smoothly, not daring to break Lovino's willpower.

Lovino nodded again, as extra confirmation. His teeth were sinking deep into his lip, he thought it might start bleeding. His throat was so dangerously tight, tears were already pricking the corners of his eyes. Why was lying to Antonio so hard?

"Lovino," Antonio said, voice smooth, comforting, like silk.

"Yes," Lovino blurted, his voice weakened by a silent sob.

Antonio moved closer and waited for Lovino to look at him. He smiled, as gently as he could. "May I have a hug. As goodbye, I mean."

Lovino's breath was unsteady. He closed his eyes and mumbled, "Yes."

Antonio wrapped his arms around him, strong and secure around the shaking, thin body. Lovino didn't even protest; he couldn't, or his voice might break. And he didn't want to, because though he can lie, he couldn't deny how wonderful it was to hug Antonio. His heart thrummed, and his skin shivered. His hands moved behind Antonio's back without him realizing, now he was close enough to feel Antonio's heartbeat. It was loud and fast too. It was perfect.

"I'll miss you, you know?" Antonio whispered, taking the opportunity to run his fingers through Lovino's soft brown hair.

Lovino took in one last inhale in the crook of Antonio's shoulder. It was such a subtle scent, but it was fresh and grounded like a garden. "I'll miss you too."

He would miss him. The scent, the warmth, the accent, the laugh, the eyes. He would miss everything.

But he has to go. Maybe if left, he'll forget this. He'll forget all of this. And maybe, when he came back, he won't feel a thing. Three months was a long time.

With every bone in his body, Lovino hoped for a miracle.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since this weekend will be hectic as hell, I'm not sure how soon the next chapter will be up. It'll be partially collaborated with my beta/sister, since she's in charge of all Jeanne scenes, so look forward to that. It's the transition chapter into the summer arc. If you haven't seen my profile - I tend to write out my tentative outlines there - this story will be divided into three seasonal arcs. Each of them about five chapters long. Summer will be very eventful :3 So I'm excited.
> 
> Thank you so, so much for reading! I'll be back very soon.


	5. Cabernet Sauvignon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The interlude, Jeanne, and return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Erika - female!Iceland  
> Abel - Denmark

It was bright. Very, very bright.

Francis’s eyelids fluttered, and he groaned at the attack of sunlight. His hands moved towards his face, rubbing traces of sleep from his eyes, and wiping some of the stray blond locks away from his forehead. Finally, he was able to focus through his squinting, and he stared at a lamp. It was tall, frilly, pink…he didn’t own a lamp like that.

Oh.

Everything clicked at once: the bar, the dancing, the girl, the flirting, the hotel. He was still in San Francisco, and he was still in her hotel room. He turned over to look, and she wasn’t there; then he heard the faint roar of the shower, and he breathed. It was time to make his escape.

Rapidly, Francis pulled back the covers and stumbled to his feet. He stumbled slightly, the alcohol still buzzing in his veins, but having plenty of experience, he was able to maneuver into his clothes. Once the pants were on, the shoes tied, and the shirt half-way buttoned, he heard the water turn off. That was his cue to leave, and he didn’t waste anymore time in diving out.

He was sure to leave a note though.

_Mon chère,_

_I’m sure you have nothing to worry about. Your fiancé would be lucky to have you._

_With all my love,_

_Francis_

 

~/~

For the next two hours, Francis sat idly at a café, staring at the people walking by and waiting for Gilbert’s car to roll around the corner. He decided to stay in San Francisco for the weekend, and he’d hoped Antonio and Gilbert were going to come with him, but both of them claimed to be “too busy,” and he was left alone to find amusement. Sure, he had fun. There were beautiful people, beautiful stores, he bought a fabulous new watch; but even so, he felt lost.

What was he even doing? Working of course, but is that all? Francis loved the wine industry and his family’s company, but how come there was still such a large part of him that felt unfulfilled? He was empty. And he always felt so bored.

His phone buzzed and he looked down.

**Gilbert – I’m here**

With a sigh, and a fast smile, Francis said his goodbyes to the waitresses, left his extravagant tip, and walked out of the building. He looked right and left with no sign of Gilbert’s car, but before he could send a text, his phone buzzed again.

**Gilbert – I’m waving my hand at you**

Francis narrowed his eyes I confusion, and looked up for any sign. He saw a hand moving, but it was in the wrong car. This car was shiny and red and…merde. Gilbert bought a new car.

The car honked, still trying to get Francis’s attention, and with a groan, Francis walked towards it. 

The window was rolled down and Gilbert grinned excitedly, his red eyes gleaming. “So what do you think?”

“Is this what happened to that money you owe me?” Francis asked, pursing his lips in disapproval, and sliding his finger across the metal suspiciously.

Gilbert chuckled, not even ashamed. “Aw, come on! You don’t really need it! And I’ve been wanting a new car forever. Isn’t it awesome?”

Francis rolled his eyes. “You’re never going to give me that money, just admit it,” he paused and took in the full effect of the Mustang. “But at least you didn’t get a truck.” He opened the door and set his bags down in the backseat.

Gilbert shifted the car into drive, and they began cruising back to Nappa Valley.

“So did you have fun?” Gilbert asked, as Francis continuously messed with the radio.

“Oh, you know,” Francis drawled, ready to tell a fantastic lie. But he was tired. And lying was pointless with his friends. He exhaled. “It was the usual.”

“You didn’t meet anybody or anything?”

Francis kept scrolling through the channels, unsatisfied with every genre. “I met some. But I don’t know,” he closed his eyes briefly. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Gilbert frowned and slapped Francis’s hand away from the radio. “Okay, first of all—the driver’s in charge of the music,” he blindly changed it to a metal-rock station. “And second of all, what do you mean you don’t know what you’re doing?”

“I just…” Francis looked out the window. “I’m just empty. I feel like I don’t even know who I am. All I’ve ever done is follow my parents’ orders, I’ve never had any struggles to overcome, I’m rich, I’m beautiful…”

“You’re arrogant,” Gilbert added with a smirk.

“I’m just stating the facts,” Francis smiled sadly. “But even with all of that, I’m nothing.”

“We can’t all have character-building struggles like Antonio,” Gilbert said with a roll of his eyes.

“Oh, Antonio,” Francis lamented, thinking about his poor, lonely friend. “Is it better to have known love and lost, or to have never loved at all?”

“What?” Gilbert turned to him confused.

“Never mind. Have you seen him at all this weekend?”

“Nope. I called him and invited him over for a drink, or at least to have dinner with Ludwig and I, but he said he’s too busy,” Gilbert didn’t bother hiding his annoyance.

“Has he left the vineyards once this month?”

Gilbert shook his head and Francis sighed.

“Well, what about you?” Francis asked, desperate for something uplifting to talk about. “Anything new with the mysterious wine critic?”

Gilbert cracked a smile, and his eyes glittered happily. “No, I mean, nothing much anyway. We text a lot, but he’s still in Vancouver visiting family. He’ll be back in San Fran next week.”

“Hm,” Francis hummed. “I never would’ve thought you’d be the one to find love first.”

“Hey! I was dating Lizzie years ago and you never said jack shit!” Gilbert snapped.

“Please, that never counted. She was just using you to make Roderich jealous,” Francis point out, and examined his fingernails absentmindedly. “But in any case, at least someone fell in love with you. It means it’s only a matter of time for Antonio and I.”

“I thought Antonio was already a done deal?”

“No, I think not,” Francis said and stared at the cloudless sky. “They’re both going to make things needlessly complex.”

Gilbert nodded slowly, without completely understanding. They were silent again, and the music did little to fill the void.

“Well,” Gilbert started after a while. “What about you? I mean, you and Antonio are pretty much tied for being the most romantic. But you definitely take the prize for being the most outgoing. I figured you would’ve been moving onto your third marriage at this point.” Gilbert snickered, and Francis laughed along with him.

Francis’s laugh faded as he thought about an answer. “I don’t know. I wish I could find someone who understood my soul.”

“So a soul-mate.”

“Yes, I suppose so,” Francis admitted, a small smile turning his lips up. “I think I’m still waiting.”

Gilbert turned to him skeptically and raised an eyebrow. He caught the melancholy, almost hopelessly wistful expression on Francis’s face, and he shook his head. “You know, I can’t believe I’m the one to say this. But maybe you should stop having so many flings. I don’t think that’s helping any."

Francis’s eyes flashed at him. “Oh. Says the guy who spent two weeks sleeping around San Francisco after Elizaveta announced her engagement.”

“Shit, that was a phase! I’m past that now!” Gilbert shouted defensively, pink dusting his fair skin.

“I know, I was only teasing,” Francis said, his lips twisting in another smile.

Gilbert pressed his lips together and looked at his friend again. “So…does that mean you’re going to listen to me?”

Francis blinked slowly, his eyes staring blankly at the blurring cornfields. “Perhaps.”

~/~

That was a lie, of course. The flings may be meaningless, but at least for a night Francis wasn’t as lonely. At least it took some of the aching sadness away, and he could pretend he was happy, in love, or anything other than his reality.

Blondes, brunettes, redheads, raven-haired, he adored them all. It hardly mattered what they looked like in the end. He just wanted to delude himself into believing that they understood him; that they didn’t just look at his pretty face and shining credit cards, and maybe understood how much his heart hurt. And it was easy to do for a little while. Don’t look to deep into their eyes, don’t try to carry on a conversation, just kiss and forget.

But Gilbert’s right. It was only ever a temporary solution. Flings were like short-lived spells that lasted only for a night, and in the morning all of that romance and splendor faded away, and Francis was once again that lonesome Cinderella without anything worthwhile to hold onto.

That was how he woke up again, and as always he lacked any idea about where he was, and whom he was with. He looked to the side and no one was there. No one was ever there. Francis tended to sleep very late, and most women were too embarrassed to stay that long. Not that it bothered him of course, it wouldn’t have been easier with them there. But…

He couldn’t help but hope for something wonderful every time.

A phone rang, and Francis’s reverie was broken. He sat up in the bed and searched the nightstand, the floor, and eventually found his phone still tucked away in his pants pockets.

He answered it with a sleepy voice. “Hello?”

“Shit, you just woke up, didn’t you?” Gilbert’s distinct accent rung through the line.

“What? Gilbert? Of course not,” Francis yawned and began pulling on his pants. “I was just lying down.”

“…Right,” Gilbert said, and sarcasm dripped through the phone. “Well, when you’re done sneaking out of whatever hotel room you’re staying at, remember that we have plans tonight. Matthew’s here, and I finally managed to kidnap Toni from the plantation, so it’s just you we’re waiting for.”

“Yes, alright. I haven’t forgotten,” Francis lied smoothly and continued buttoning his shirt. “I’ll see you in a little while.”

“You sure you don’t need me to pick you up?” Gilbert asked, struggling to be helpful.

“Don’t be silly. I’m only a block away,” Francis said and got up to inspect his face in the mirror.

“Wait, what?”

“I’m at Erika’s apartment.”

“Erika as in my bartender Erika?”

“Yes."

There was a small pause.

“Well, fuck. That’s going to make things awkward.”

 

~/~

Fortunately, Erika wasn’t the sensitive type. Francis assumed she didn’t really like him in the first place, or at the very least didn’t expect much, and they were able to walk to the bar together on friendly terms.

Inside, Gilbert was leaning over the counter, elbows resting on the shiny countertop, and eyes glued intently on Matthew’s face. Matthew sat on the other side on a barstool, and was talking animatedly about something. Francis looked around for Antonio and found him at a table a ways away, chopping tomatoes on a cutting board. 

Erika said something like “of course” and joined Gilbert behind the counter. Francis, out of curiosity and some concern, decided to check on his friend.

“Toni, _mon cher_! Long time no see!” Francis announced, easily slipping back into his carefree voice.

Antonio turned around, eyes wide in surprise, but he was quick to smile. “Oh, Francis, there you are. We were waiting for you.” He chuckled lightly and resumed cutting tomatoes. There was a bowl set beside him with avocado inside.

“So what are you doing?” Francis asked, and took a seat next to him.

“I’m just making some guacamole. I figured I should try to get rid of some of these,” Antonio said, smiling a bit more emptily at the tomatoes.

“Oh, I see,” Francis hummed, taking note that these were the tomatoes Antonio had planted for Lovino. His friend was so hopeless.

“Feli’s doing very well. I saw him on my way out, but he mentioned you should stop by for dinner sometime. He was asking me about Spanish wine – I guess he was thinking of planting some new grapes – but you know so much more about that stuff than I do,” Antonio laughed, his cheeks warm with embarrassment. “Ah, maybe I should try studying these things. Do you have any books I can borrow?”

Francis raised an eyebrow. “Toni, what’s wrong? I can’t remember the last time you wanted to read.”

Antonio blinked in surprise, and red tinged the tips of his ears. But his smile remained and he replied, “Nothing’s wrong! I was just thinking maybe I could try learning something. I think I might try to read those books you mentioned. Was were they again?”

Francis was silent as he tried to decipher Antonio’s expression. Shining green eyes, shaky, weak smile, and tightly clasped hands. Francis had seen this before. Antonio looked guilty. That could only mean he talked to his parents.

Francis sighed, depressed that his problems seemed so miniscule now. How could he complain about his life when Antonio was basically severed from his family?

“So,” Francis began, leaning his chin into his palm and giving Antonio an even stare. “What did they say this time?”

Antonio’s blush reddened, and he scratched the back of his neck nervously. He laughed, but the sound hurt Francis’s ears. “Well, you know. Some of the usual.”

“Did they ask how you were doing?” Francis asked, his heart suddenly swelled with contempt. Not for Toni of course.

“Um,” Antonio looked to the side, still chuckling a strangled, false sound. “Not really. I-it was more like asking when I’d come back.”

Francis leaned back in the chair, struggling to keep his frustration in check. “I take it it wasn’t a pleasant conversation.”

Antonio looked down, finally letting the smile fall from his face. “Not really…”

Francis glanced at him, his adrenaline simmering to compassion. “Toni, I’m sorry. But you know they’re in the wrong, right?”

Antonio’s eyes flicked up, the green shimmering under the dim light of the overhead lamp. His lips turned up weakly, but his gaze was as passionate and sure as ever. “Yeah, I know.” His smile broadened bitterly. “It’s just kind of sad.”

Francis’s eyes turned downcast. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

It was quiet again.

“But I think,” Antonio started, holding a tomato in his hand. “I think it’ll be worth it in the end.”

Oh, Toni, Francis thought. You’re so optimistic. Please don’t pin all of your love and hope on one stubborn boy. Your heart will be so difficult to put back together a second time.

But of course, he couldn’t say any of that. “You’re such a romantic Toni, I’m sure you can win him over.”

Antonio looked up, eyes bright and bold, and he laughed fully for the first time that day.

Francis kept his mask and smiled, but on the inside, he was cold with worry.

~/~

 

“Gilbert.”

“Hm, what is it Mattie? Oh, have you run out? Do you need some more?” 

“N-no, I’m fine. It’s just that…don’t you think you’ve had enough?”

“Enough what?”

“Enough – Francis, can you help me out here?”

Francis looked up from his pretty cocktail and in the direction of Matthew. He acknowledged his distressed, pink face and turned towards Gilbert. It looked he was already well past his tenth drink of the night, and was now tuning his electric guitar.

“What’s the problem?” Francis asked, and took another heavy sip.

Matthew’s eyes widened in nervous panic. “Gilbert! Is he okay? He seems kind of drunk.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about him. I doubt he’s that drunk. He can handle his drinks,” Francis waved his hand dismissively and looked around the room. Now where had Antonio gone?

“Ten drinks isn’t light! He was taking shots before that!” Matthew protested, and squeaked when Gilbert snuck up behind him.

“Birdie! Do you want to hear me play my guitar?” Gilbert asked and wrapped his arms around Matthew’s waist.

“Y-you play the guitar?” Matthew stuttered, blushing from his cheeks to the back of his neck.

“No, he doesn’t. That’s Erika’s. He just likes to play with it after the bar closes,” Francis answered simply. “But has anyone seen Toni by the way?” Francis twisted around the barstool and tried to gain a better vantage point of the room. Not that it was that large, but Antonio had to be nearby.

“He was around here somewhere,” Gilbert said and continued dragging Matthew away from the bar and towards the stage.

Francis rolled his eyes and stepped down from the stool. “Very helpful,” he muttered and began heading towards the stairs. Gilbert closed the bar early today so that he could spend more time with Matthew, and now the only ones still loitering around inside were Erika and Kiku – they had a meeting with their other band members, but it seemed like the rest of them had disappeared – Matthew and Gilbert, and until about an hour ago, Francis and Antonio.

Gilbert and his brother Ludwig lived upstairs, andthey had a guest room where Francis or Antonio would often sleep over. More recently it’d been Francis.

So, Francis first checked there: empty, quiet, dark. He passed by Ludwig’s room, where a light seeped from the crack in the door; he must have been studying. Then, as Francis neared Gilbert’s room he heard sounds. But they weren’t any sounds he was hoping to hear.

Perhaps he was too perceptive of this sort of thing, and that in of itself must say something about him, but it didn’t make Francis any happier to see with his own eyes how right he was.

It hadn’t gotten far, fortunately, but that didn’t make the position any less compromising. Antonio was on the couch, shirtless and flushed, and only pulled his lips away from the body on top of him when Francis threw the door open.

“Antonio, what the hell is going on?” Francis snapped, eyes sharp on the blond crawling away from Antonio. “Abel? What are you doing up here? I thought you left?”

Abel was quick to smile, like he always was and said, “Well, I was going to, but as I was about to leave Antonio pulled me up here.”

Francis glanced back at Antonio’s lazy green eyes. “He’s drunk. It looks like he’s very drunk, and he only drinks like this when he’s upset. Couldn’t you have said no or something?”

“He doesn’t seem that drunk to me,” Abel said, but just as the words left his mouth, Antonio turned over on the couch and accidentally toppled to the floor. Abel glanced up at Francis, a carefree chuckle escaping his lips. “Oh.”

“Oh,” Francis repeated mockingly, and made fast, long strides across the room to check on his friend. Antonio rolled onto his back with a few groans. “Toni? Are you okay?”

His green eyes fluttered open and he focused on Francis slowly. “Wh-what’s going on?”

Francis sighed and moved some of Antonio’s curly locks away from his forehead. “You really need to stop bottling everything up Toni. Not everyone knows you as well as Gilbert and I,” he mumbled and helped his friend sit up. “Now how much did you have to drink?”

Antonio’s head hovered unsteadily as he tried to think. “I’m not sure…”

“Alright then, how do you feel?” Francis asked, alternating his attention between scanning Antonio worriedly and glaring at Abel standing in the corner.

“I’m,” Antonio paused and a happy grin spread across his face. “I’m _maravilloso_.”

Francis pressed his lips together in disbelief. Antonio must have drank a lot of alcohol. “That’s good. Do you want to take a nap?”

“Hmm,” Antonio hummed, taking his time pondering the question. Then his eyes closed, and he said, “ _Si_. A nap sounds good.”

“Okay,” Francis replied, and began hauling Antonio up by the arms. Abel moved into help and together they laid Antonio down on Gilbert’s unmade bed, making sure to fix him on his side in case he needed to throw up. “Antonio, I’m going downstairs to talk to Gilbert, but someone will be right up to check on you, alright?”

Antonio nodded his head and hummed again.

Francis exhaled in relief – it seemed like Antonio was at least happy enough to fall asleep. If they were both lucky, Antonio would wake up with no memory of any of this. Though at least Antonio hadn’t actually slept with Abel. God knows what Antonio would be like if he remembered that. His conscience wasn’t as merciful as Francis’s.

On that note, Francis gestured to Abel to follow him out of the room, and in strict silence they exited and closed the door behind them.

Once they were in the hallway however, Francis resumed his verbal assault. “What were you thinking? You know Antonio’s an unstable drunk! And couldn’t you tell how upset he was before he started drinking! What part of that made you think it was okay?"

Abel shrugged his shoulders. “I’m telling you, he didn’t seem that drunk to me. He seemed like he always was. I mean, he was laughing and smiling…he wasn’t any different than sober, really.”

“ _Mon dieu_ ,” Francis covered his eyes with his hand. It seemed like he and Gilbert really were the only two that could decode the minute signals Antonio gave. “You’re going to have to promise me to stay away from him from now on. Antonio’s not the type for a fling. He’d be heartbroken in the morning,” Francis warned.

Abel nodded in understanding. “Yeah, yeah. I get it. I guess it wouldn’t have worked out anyway,” he said casually, jumping the last step and turning around. His eyes sparkled deviously. “What about you though?”

Francis almost scoffed at the question. “You know my reputation.”

“I do,” Abel smiled and leaned against the wall. “So what do you say?”

Francis’s eyes passed over him easily, sharp with fresh anger, but also dark and desperate for something. Someone. It didn’t even matter that he preferred women to men. It’s not like that stopped him before.

So he smirked and asked, “My place or yours?”

~/~

But the next morning, Francis awoke as he always did. Cold, alone, a bit confused, somewhat ashamed, but also numbingly empty inside. He always asked himself why he did it, what was he thinking when he agreed to it; and he always made the flimsy promise of never doing it again. But just by telling himself that, Francis was at least able to get himself out of bed and pretend to face the day.

He had to text Gilbert, let him know what happened to him. He should also ask how Antonio’s doing, since he left fairly soon after passing the news along to Matthew. Then, finally, he should go back to the vineyard. It’s been too long, and he needs to check in.

At the thought of time, Francis glanced around the plain white room for a clock. It was ten. That’s fairly early, considering. Francis yawned and resumed his routine of getting ready. Abel wasn’t anywhere to be seen, so Francis took the liberty of taking a shower. Afterwards he redressed himself in the slacks and white button-down from yesterday, rolled the crumpled sleeves to his elbow and stuffed his dying phone and noticeably lighter wallet into his pockets.

He wandered down the stairs, still yawning and rehearsing his explanations to Gilbert and Matthew, but stopped when he smelled an aroma of food floating around the townhouse. After he reached the bottom floor with newly, deft footsteps, Francis hesitantly peaked into the kitchen for any sign of Abel. And he was there, cooking and whistling as he moved about the kitchen. The fact that Abel set the table for two should’ve made Francis elated, or at the very least flattered, but in that moment the only thing that registered in his mind was fear.

So he turned on his heel and dashed out the front door as fast as he could. There was a call behind him, but Francis was sure to ignore it, and in a few rushed turns, he was suddenly standing in front of a tall, white building, panting and trying to catch his breath in front of it. Running through a hangover wasn’t so easy. But he had to run. It’s not as if Francis liked Abel. Not even on friendly acquaintance terms really. He was just another person Francis needed at night, but in the morning, Francis wanted him to be gone, like a dream. That’s what he wanted from all of them.

But at the same time, he held out this hope for true love. It was a tragedy in the making and Francis was completely aware of it.

After he finally caught his breath, Francis noticed the clusters of people, polished and ready, chatting and hovering near the building just as he was. So Francis looked further up, very curious and – oh. It was a church. A few wheels turned in his head and he realized it was also a Sunday. Francis checked his shining gold watch: and it was almost eleven o’clock. Wasn’t that a common time for mass?

Francis took his time freely watching the families and friends conversing near the steps, and deliberated what to do. He supposed he should be going now. There was just something nostalgic about the scene. It reminded him of his church in France, and the times he went to mass with his family. It seemed so long ago, trapped in his pristine, faraway childhood.

But as people began filing inside the doors he exhaled wistfully. If only going inside would take him back in time.

Of course, Francis knew it wouldn’t and with a half-smile he turned around, only to have his attention caught by a glimpse of someone in the corner of his eye. He stopped in an instant and tried to find her. But she was already skipping up the steps into the church, her cropped hair bouncing with her stride.

 

~/~

 

Jeanne came because the voices in her head told her to. Because she must, she was compelled. Because at the right time of day the stained glass painted the church in deep rich hues and she felt immersed in the love of God. And it felt like redemption.

At first she would come just for the services and rush out after the crowd dispersed, but at the door she could feel the presence of God leave her. Jeanne knew that He was all around, yet it was only when she crossed the threshold that she believed that He was in her.

And it was only then that the voices stopped.

So Jeanne began to come every day. She lit candles for the friends she lost, and she tried not to lose herself in the flames. The confessions she made to the priest never felt real, so Jeanne would spend hours sitting on the hard wooden pew, confessing to the God she found within her.

And when she felt the colorful light giving her cheek a warm caress, she knew it was the kiss of her God, forgiving and loving her.

~/~

Francis stepped inside the church and felt nothing. He could see the beauty in the stained glass windows and know that every inch of this old church was made by people who loved and cherished God, but he no longer felt, no longer believed. There was a fog over his mind, dulling the brilliant colors and weighing down his heart. Of course, Francis knew that he loved his friends and his vineyards, that he loved to love people and all beautiful things...but what good was his love?

He felt underdressed after his night with Abel. Should he even be in a church? He watched a young girl sitting on her father’s lap. Two girls in the choir giggling over a joke. The crowd shuffled forward. Love flowed out of people so freely. When was the last time Francis prayed?

He was about to duck out of the line when the light came through, and a woman came upon him like a vision. Like a sunbeam through the storming clouds. Like an epiphany, like a warm kiss in the rain, like a wave crashing over him and washing him clean.

Like redemption.

A woman lit aflame with golden light. Her face was burned on one side, but her eyes showed a strength that was pure and untouchable. No scars could triumph over her, no force could keep the keen grey eyes from finding the truth in Francis. He felt laid bare under her gaze, raw and undone. But he saw her lips, so soft, almost smiling, and something in Francis _shifted._

She was not pretty, she was beautiful. She was hard to look at, because to look at her was to see something honest and human. Francis stared at the light breaking her face up into shapes, making her glow with hair like fire and eyes like— _merde!_ She was staring right at him!

At an uncharacteristic loss for what else to do, Francis ignored the voice inside him shouting to _Get out you imbécile get out get out GET OUT!_ and slid into the empty space next to her. His heart pounded from an even more uncharacteristic nervousness, but when he found the strength to glance at the woman again, he met her eyes.

Grey. An ocean. A storm amid the fire on her face. Truth. Despair. A few lines maybe. Scars, almost like flecks of paint, softened under the light of the stained glass.

Was it just moments before that Francis felt nothing? Because now he felt too much. He was powerless in the storm, the wind was rubbing him raw. How could his heart have forgotten this? How had he survived without this ecstatic pain?

He smiled. She smiled in return. Thank God he took a shower. (Maybe part of him still believed). Should he speak? Has it been a lifetime already, or only a few seconds?

“I’ve never seen you here before,” beneath the hush of her voice Francis heard an accent.

“I am not always a man of God, _mademoiselle_ ,” Francis replied, waited a beat, “But I can appreciate His handiwork when I see such beauty.”

She smiled fully at that, then turned to look up at the altar, where the priests were still setting up. But Francis had caught the playful spark in her eyes.

He brushed his hand lightly against the sleeve of her jacket to get her attention. She jumped, and turned towards him with a soft blush. The light was fading from her face, a five-minute miracle. He leaned forward, excitement and nervousness and joy churning inside him, and even more he felt a current of warmth running just under his skin, burning his fingertips from where they still lingered right above her wrist.

“ _Mademoiselle_ , I never caught your name,”

The priest cleared his throat. She looked into his eyes.

“Jeanne.”

Jeanne glanced back at the podium – the priest had started to speak in a gravelly voice. Francis didn’t even notice.

They were called to stand. In the short bustle, Francis found her eyes again.

“Francis.”

He looked up at the stained glass. The crowd began to mutter their prayers. He smiled.

~/~

He wanted to ask more, he wanted to ask everything, but within the confines of the church, and the steely eyes of the priest, Francis felt unsure, and decided to wait. He glanced at her often. Watching the way her head tilted, how her lips set, and he wondered what it all meant. What was Jeanne thinking? Who was Jeanne? Jeanne…

It was like a sign. It was a sign, wasn’t it? The name, the golden light – like an angel sent from heaven. God was trying to tell him something, God was—

“Francis, what are you doing?”

He turned towards the low whisper.

Jeanne was staring at him, eyes curious, amused, but her eyebrows taught. Why did she seem so low when just a second ago…oh.

In a flash, Francis dropped back to the bench, the eyes of the crowds following with his motion. He looked back to Jeanne with a ready smile, but nervous to feel an unfamiliar heat creep along his skin. What was this? A blush? Who was he? An Italian?

“Francis?” Jeanne repeated, and this time he was quick to respond.

“I’m sorry _mon chère_ I must have,” he trailed off in search of an answer. His eyes grazed over the windows, the altar, the priest. “I was getting caught up in the moment I suppose. Masses can be so invigorating!”

She blinked once, and her lips twitched up, but she didn’t say anything and simply faced forward once again.

Meanwhile, Francis returned to turmoil. How can an answer so silent be so much more nerve-wracking? He hadn’t realized he stood up whilst he was so impassioned. He was just thinking about Jeanne and destiny, and—

“Francis!”

Oh, _merde._

~/~

The first time he took her to the vineyards, it was a perfect day. Jeanne asked Francis to show her his favorite places, the hidden places. So they went walking in a companionable, the sun setting beside them and shining through the leaves. Francis stared again at a Jeanne painted in gold, like a gilded statue, and his heart swelled. By the time they made it to the top of the hill, the soft grey light of dusk made the vineyard seem so peaceful. He liked to come here just because—

“It reminds me of home,” Jeanne turned to him smiling, a little teary. “My home in France. I mean, I haven’t been there in so long,” again, she looked out at the endless, gently rolling hills, “but there’s something of home in this place.”

~/~

“Francis, you’re falling behind!” Jeanne laughed from where she trotted ahead on Napoleon.

“That’s not fair Jeanne, Marie Antoinette doesn’t like to go riding on the trails! She has very sensitive hooves!”

“I can’t hear you from back there,” she sing-songed and threw a reckless smile over her shoulder.

“Be careful! There’s a—”

Jeanne deftly steered Napoleon around the newly fallen log.

“Oh, that was close!” she gave the horse a pat on the neck, and they both sped along the trail.

A few moments later, Francis led Marie to the log, but she eyed the unfamiliar part of the trail warily, and slowly made her way around it. She was a beautiful horse, but so easily spooked.

Francis looked down at his horse and asked, “Would you please speed up? I wanted to impress Jeanne with the sight of my graceful figure on a horse, but she can’t even see me from back here!”

Marie Antoinette just gave a huff in reply. Francis sighed and nudged her with his heels, clicking with his mouth until she started to trot again. They made their way around the bend and gradually caught up to Jeanne and Napoleon. They had stopped at a fork in the trails, and Jeanne was trying to keep Napoleon from eating the leaves off of a nearby bush.

Francis watched her gentle smile, and the way the light filtered through the tall trees, leafy and alive in the summer, and danced across her face, her back. But more than that, it was like she was lit up from the inside; just like when he first met her in that church, and the golden light from the windows was nothing compared to the bright, resilient strength of her eyes. Her beautiful grey eyes…

…which widened in surprise when she saw Francis and Marie trot briskly past her.

“ _Honhonhon!_ Just like the hare, you have become overconfident Jeanne! Marie and I will win, like a beautiful, graceful tortoise!”

Francis chanced to look behind him, and laughed again at the stunned expression on Jeanne’s face. Then he saw her urge Napoleon into a trot, and he felt a thrill shoot through his heart.

There was a little bit of fear, but mostly, it was a delirious combination of joy and affection, and childish excitement.

“Francis, you’re the most ridiculous and most wonderful man I have ever met!” Jeanne shouted, she sounded half-angry, and close.

Okay, perhaps a fair amount of fear.

He patted Marie’s snow-white neck. He laughed, and raced ahead.

  
~/~

“Antonio.”

He didn’t move.

“Antonio!”

He felt someone poke his side, and reluctantly, his eyes fluttered open. The light burned and he could only catch glimpses of the lemon tree and someone’s face looking over him. Someone with dark hair and dark eyes…

His heartbeat picked up and in a second, Antonio sat up to get a better look. But, it wasn’t him.

Feliciano was kneeling next to him, eyes glittering with confusion, and it took Antonio too long to slap a smile on his face.

“Feli,” he said after a while, a weak laugh slipping through his lips. “What are you doing here?”

Feliciano’s eyebrows scrunched together and he tilted his head. “Toni, why are you crying?”

“What?”

“You’re crying,” Feliciano pointed, and Antonio followed the gesture to his cheeks.

“Oh,” he breathed as he touched the dampness. He didn’t even know he was crying. “I must have had a nightmare.” That wasn’t a lie. He was dreaming about his family again. But it was never very different from reality, so he could never actually wake up from it.

Feliciano pressed his lips together in worry, but didn’t say anything.

Antonio wiped his cheeks with his arms and started chuckling again. “I’m sorry you had to see that. I haven’t been sleeping well lately,” he said and took a deep breath. “But um, did you need anything?”

“No, not really,” Feliciano replied and settled more comfortably in the grass. After a moment, he continued, “I just finished talking to Lovi.”

Antonio’s breath caught, but he felt his face brighten. “Really? How’s he doing?”

“Good, he’s in Verona now. He’s fighting with our grandpa, but that’s nothing unusual,” Feliciano giggled.

A breeze swept through Antonio’s hair and he smiled. “He doesn’t take orders very well, does he?”

“Not really,” Feliciano admitted. “I think he’s much happier here. He can do what he wants.”

“Yeah,” was all Antonio said and he picked a flower. He turned it in his hand as he tried to count how many days were left.

“He asked about you,” Feliciano added, happiness bubbling in his voice.

Antonio stared. Lovino asked about him? That’d never happened before. “He did?”

Feliciano nodded, his smile growing. “He asked how you’re doing.”

“Oh,” Antonio mumbled, his cheeks growing warm. “How’d he ask?”

Feliciano laughed. “Well, he asked how the Spanish bastard was doing, but that’s just how Lovi talks.”

Antonio smiled fondly. He didn’t even mind; it almost made him miss Lovino even more. “Yeah, I know.”

It was silent again, and Antonio continued twirling the flower as the wind cooled the heat from his skin.

“I told him that you seemed a bit lonely,” Feliciano finished tentatively, checking Antonio’s expression as he said it.

Antonio’s smile stayed. “And what did he say?”

“He said that’s stupid.”

Antonio laughed breathily and stared out at the vineyards. “Lovi’s always honest, isn’t he?”

Feliciano’s lips twisted into a secret smile. “Not really.”

Antonio didn’t reply, but he couldn’t stop a grin from spreading across his face.  

“Actually, I think you’re both pretty big liars,” Feliciano said suspiciously.

Antonio’s sparkling green eyes looked to the side and he kept his smile.

They didn’t say anything more on the subject and continued sitting in each other’s company in comfortable silence.

~/~

She sat with one knee drawn up to her chin. One hand held a glass of Sauternes, and Jeanne stared straight into Francis’s eyes as she spoke.

“I thought it would be a simple mission,” her gaze was maybe a little distant, but Francis let her tell her story. “I… some part of me knew. Almost like, a warning whispered in my head.”

He grabbed her hand, rubbed soothing circles on her palm.

“I just knew I had to save my company. I was their superior, I wasn’t really supposed to put myself in that kind of danger. But at that point, I didn’t know why I was fighting anymore. I just knew that they were good people, and their lives… I couldn’t stand to lose anyone else…”

Francis gently kissed her wrist, pulled her close. He let her settle against his chest, nuzzling against the soft cotton of his shirt as she took a sip of wine and he gendly carded his fingers through her hair.

“So I left the army. Honorable discharge. Burned, alone, and no cause to fight for,” she sighed, “I got tired of ignoring the voices in my head. They were trying to steer me right before, weren’t they? I listened. I went to the church, and I felt… full of love. I had found God, simple as flipping a switch.  So I thought, is this my new cause?”

“I thought I was going to become a nun. And then I didn’t know. And then I met you,” she said, pressing her soft lips against where her head rested on his chest.

“And I saved you from a life of horrible wine.”

Jeanne gave a little huff of laughter. “You know, _mon petit chou_ , the day you sat next to me in the church like a lost puppy was the day after I gave up on becoming a nun. You just had very good timing.”

Francis thought of the weeks before he met Jeanne. Full of confusion and lust, incredibly messy, but throughout it all, just neverendingly empty. He pulled her close against him, she sighed.

“No, it was you _mon chère_ , you changed everything for me. Oh my Jeanne, so brave…”

~/~

Days passed and the sun grew hotter. Sometimes it was the only thing that kept Antonio going. He didn’t know why, but for the longest time he felt as though he was becoming increasingly lonely. Sure, he, Berwald and Kiku were fairly isolated the days they worked, but that never bothered him before. He enjoyed it, he relished in it. A few months ago all he wanted was to wrestle his hands in the vines and bathe his skin in sunlight. But now…

Antonio wondered what Lovino was doing. He wondered whether he was happy. He wondered where he was, what he was eating, if he had found another lover. They were aching, maddening questions, but Antonio couldn’t help but think of them. He wanted Lovino back so much. Even those fleeting encounters were enough. He wanted time to understand those molten gold eyes; he wanted to strip away the lies, the fury, the confusion and the fear. 

All he needed was time. And when the two of them were together, Antonio felt as though they had all the time in the world.

~/~

“Lovi! _Ciao_! How are you?” Feliciano asked excitedly, checking the time on his watch and doing quick mental math to calculate the time in Verona. “It’s late there isn’t it?”

 _“Not really,”_ Lovino answered gruffly, annoyance easily seeping through his voice. _“I just got pissed at grandpa again and needed to get out.”_

Feliciano listened to the heavier breaths and guessed, “Are you out for a walk?”

_“Yeah…”_

“Well, do you want to talk about something happy?”

 _“Sure, whatever,”_ Lovino replied. Feliciano could imagine him rolling his eyes.

“Let’s see, well it’s been really sunny here—”

 _“Surprise, surprise,”_ Lovino interrupted dryly.

“The vines are doing well. I’ve been talking to Francis about planting some new grapes.”

Lovino sighed in silent disapproval.

“Oh, Francis has a girlfriend now!” Feliciano exclaimed, suddenly remembering.

_“Is that supposed to make me excited?”_

“They’re so cute, I can’t wait for you to meet her.”

_“She must be bored as hell, sticking around with that weirdo.”_

“And you remember Matthew? The wine critic from San Francisco?”

_“No.”_

“Aw, well that’s okay. He’s blond and very quiet. But anyway, he and Gilbert are going out now!”

_“Gilbert’s gay?”_

Feliciano didn’t miss the slight note of horror in Lovi’s voice. “Well, at the very least he likes Mattie! They’re so cute together too.”

Lovino’s breaths echoed into the phone and Feliciano caught the crunch of footsteps. _“Seems like everyone’s pairing up now. Don’t tell me you’ve found someone too.”_

Feliciano giggled easily. “No, not yet!~”

_“What the hell is that supposed to mea—”_

“But someone else has!”

The breaths and footsteps came to a halt. _“Oh.”_

Feliciano tried to picture his brother’s face. “Don’t you want to know who? It’s somebody close to us!”

 _“I,”_ Lovino stopped, his voice sounded rough. _“S-sure.”_

Feliciano thought about teasing him more, but decided not to. “Berwald just asked Tino out!”

A subtle exhale floated through the phone. _“Oh. I see.”_

“Isn’t that great?” Feliciano pushed eagerly, though he knew already what direction Lovino’s mind had travelled too.

 _“Yeah,”_ was the only response.

Feliciano looked out the kitchen window as a silence hung between them. Antonio was laying under the lemon tree again. He thought of those mysterious tears from the other day. What would Lovino make of that?

“Something strange happened the other day,” Feliciano started hesitantly, his voice quieter than before.

 _“Hm,”_ Lovino responded in acknowledgment.

“I saw Antonio taking a siesta like usual, and I wanted to talk to him. But when I went over there I saw he was crying.”

 _“What? Crying?”_ Lovino snapped. He sounded angry.

“Yeah, he said he had a nightmare, but…”

_“Well, shit. It probably was a nightmare. What could the idiot possibly be sad about?”_

“That’s what he said, but I don’t know. Antonio’s pretty secretive when you think about it. He doesn’t talk much about himself.”

Lovino only breathed as he thought. _“I can’t imagine him crying,”_ he admitted softly.

“It was really strange,” Feliciano added, remembering the scene. “But he seems alright most of the time. Maybe he had a bad day,” he offered, trying to cheer his brother’s spirits. He hadn’t meant to depress him so much.

 _“Yeah,”_ Lovino muttered, and his footsteps picked up again. It sounded like pebbles.

Feliciano looked through the pasta in the kitchen cupboard as he waited for Lovino to talk again.

_“I’m coming back next Wednesday.”_

Feliciano almost dropped the box of penne. “What? Lovino? Really?”

_“Yeah.”_

“Oh, _mio dio_ that’s so amazing! Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I can’t wait! Maybe Tino and I should throw you a party! Oh, well, I guess it wouldn’t be a surprise. But still! I need to go tell everybody and –”

 _“Feliciano,”_ Lovino interrupted harshly, waiting another moment for Feliciano to be completely quiet. _“Please…don’t tell everyone.”_

It took a second, but Feliciano caught the subtext. “Ah, I see.”

 _“What? No, you don’t. There’s nothing to get. Just,”_ Lovino paused. _“Just don’t tell everyone. I-I don’t want people to know.”_

“Hmm,” Feliciano hummed, a smug smile growing on his lips. “I see. Well can I at least tell Tino, so he can help me get your room ready?”

 _“Sure,”_ Lovino replied, and Feliciano could only imagine how red his blush was.

No one said anything, and Feliciano walked back over to the window. Antonio’s body was still peaceful in the grass, and the sun hung just a bit lower in the sky.

“Everyone will be excited to see you again.”

 _“I doubt it,”_ Lovino scoffed.

Feliciano laughed, short and sweet. “No really. I think _everyone_ will.”

There was a cough. Feliciano knew it was a mix of surprise and denial.

Then in a hushed whisper came the final reply, _“Whatever.”_

~/~

Francis woke up, a little disoriented in the darkness but Jeanne still curled up against him. At first, he felt himself smiling, but soon after he realized something was wrong. Jeanne was twitching, mumbling words in French and English.

He gently pushed back her hair, which was plastered to her forehead with sweat, whispering, “Jeanne. Jeanne, _mon chère_ , you’re having a nightmare!”

Her eyes fluttered open, unfocused at first, like when she told him about her army days. Gradually, she looked at Francis, who brought her hand to his cheek.

“Francis? I… I thought I was back there. I could feel the flames still. And I called out to God, but he wasn’t answering me. It… I was burning and I was alone,” she sounded so confused and scared still, so unlike his usual bright, courageous Jeanne. Francis held her close against him, pressing kisses all along her face, against her closed eyes and the burns that ran along the right side of her cheek.

“You’re not alone with me, _mon amour_ ,” Francis said. Jeanne just smiled, but her eyes were watery and she still didn’t seem at ease.

“I know there are things I can never fix. Or forget,” she touched her scars. “But I always thought it would be… meaningful, if I lived my life with purpose. I tried to help people by fighting, but I only saw violence without purpose. I was a part of that And yet, when God spoke to me, he still loved me. If I lost that, what would it mean for me?” she stared questioningly at Francis.

“Jeanne, before I first met you, I was feeling so lost. I used to be full of love; loving people, in all their flawed beauty, came so naturally to me. And then I didn’t feel that anymore, I came here to run my vineyard and create delicious, perfect wines that would bring people together. But I got lost along the way… it all felt empty. Then I went into a church, when I hadn’t prayed in years, and I saw these people all around me showing their love for each other in all sorts of ways. I don’t know about God, not really, but I could see the care and affection people felt for each other flowing through them so easily,” Francis sighed.

“Francis, I don’t—,”

“And then I saw you. And I felt so full of emotion, full to bursting in a way I had never felt before. The way the light was shining through the windows, it was like you were golden. Or aflame,” Jeanne looked pained, but there was happiness in there, too. “And your eyes, they’re so sure. You can be so kind and gentle, but looking at your eyes I could only see a purity of purpose. There is justice in your eyes, Jeanne. And I knew from the moment I met you that I was rescued. You helped me, Jeanne. And maybe God gave me all of this love, so that I could share it with you. You know? God’s love can’t ever leave you, no matter whether he is speaking to you. Wherever you bring your justice, you create more love…” Francis trailed off, a little embarrassed of his long speech.

But Jeanne smiled at him, fully this time. She cradled his face in her hands, and leaned forward to give him a gentle kiss.

“ _Je t’aime,_ Francis. Thank you.”

 **  
**And they slept.

 

~/~

Antonio didn’t sleep much anymore. Guilt and loneliness gnawed away at his heart more than ever, and he couldn’t shut his eyes for a moment without seeing his family’s faces, without hearing their voices, their pleas, their yells. It was engraved in his memory.

It’d been a few years since he left, but much less since he had pretended to moved past the situation. He was finally so happy. He got a job at a vineyard, at one of the most beautiful and peaceful ones too. He lived near his best friends, he had a house, food. He met Lovino…

Everything was wonderful. Everything felt bright and shining, like he only lived in daylight and the night never came.

But that was such a silly thing to think. It’s not as if he could’ve kept his past buried forever, it’s not as if his parents would have let it all go. They weren’t that sort of people. And it hurt to ignore them. It stung to disobey them. It burned to disappoint them, over and over again. But there was nothing he could do.

He started waking up earlier and earlier, even before the sun peaked over the horizon. He’d wake up this early, short of breath and panting, some tear stains fresh on his cheeks, with the only desire to run outside. He had to get out. It wasn’t exactly like panic, it was just guilt. Overwhelming, consuming guilt. And it was beginning to suffocate him.

But when he was outside, at least he was distracted.

This morning he ran out rather frantically, bothering to slip on shoes and a short-sleeve shirt, but without ever taking a glance in the mirror. He stepped foot on the rugged terrain, and a shaky breath escaped his lips. He closed his eyes and reminded himself of where he was, who he was with, and chanted the encouraging words Gilbert and Francis said to him repeatedly, like a mantra.

Everything was okay. It wasn’t his fault, Antonio told himself. It wasn’t. It wasn’t.

Finally, his chest eased, and breathing came easier. He blinked at the ground and pushed his palms off of his knees. He stood up straight and stared at the horizon. Sunlight was just barely grazing the tips of the mountains, and the dewy leaves of the vines shined happily at the dawn of a new day.

Somehow he started walking. Antonio focused on his breathing and the monotonous, daily sounds – the birds, the crickets, the stir of the wind. The outdoors was soothing. He didn’t feel trapped. There were no rules or walls to keep him in, it was as free as life could be, and with every gasp of fresh, fertile air, Antonio felt his nerves unwind.

Then there was a sound he wasn’t expecting. A sharp intake, a loud shuffle of dirt. Antonio twisted around to see.

_Oh._

“Lovino?” Antonio asked, unsure that once again, he was mistaking Feliciano. So he stepped closer to the vines to make sure, peering through the leafy wall, and…yes. Finally, it was him.

His skin was tanner, his hair was lighter, like the sun wouldn’t leave him alone. But his eyes, his golden, glittering eyes were just the same. And the light was hitting him in such a way that there was no darkness to him, everything was bright, in red and oranges, and blended together like a mirror to the sunrise.

And it was strange how quickly everything Antonio thought he had forgotten returned. His heart picked up the staccato rhythm, his skin buzzed with excitement, and for the first time in weeks, his lips spread in a genuine smile. Courage and life surged through his veins, and everything that had haunted and clouded his vision faded away with Lovino’s return.

Lovino was still staring back, eyes impossibly wide, like he hadn’t expected to come across Antonio this early, and hands clenched at his sides like he was debating running. But he didn’t take a step forwards or backwards, and stayed safe behind the flimsy gate of vines.

After some rapid blinking, and a laugh that couldn’t be bottled up, Antonio said, “Lovino, I didn’t know you were back! No one said anything!”

Lovino’s cheeks warmed, and his eyes turned away. Antonio wish they didn’t. “I got back at around one this morning, but I was having trouble sleeping again,” he muttered, flashing his eyes back to give Antonio a strange look. “I didn’t think you’d be out this early.”

Now Antonio blushed, more in shame than embarrassment. For a moment his heart weighed at the reoccurring memory of his parents, but he remembered who he was with and kept his wide smile. It wasn’t as hard now. “ _Si,_ well I ended up falling asleep right after dinner, so I couldn’t stay in bed for too much longer.” He laughed again, filling out his lie. “But this is such a surprise! I never expected we’d meet like our first time in the vineyards.”

Lovino shuffled some dirt with his foot and tried to hide his face. “It’s whatever.”

Antonio kept smiling and tried to commit every part of Lovino to memory.

Lovino felt eyes on him and looked up in a fit of fury. “What is it, bastard?”

“Oh, nothing,” Antonio chuckled, and made the deft move under the vines and wire to join Lovino in the other aisle. He pretended not to hear how Lovino’s breath caught, and instead focused on Lovino’s eyes again. “I was just thinking how much you’ve changed.”

Lovino’s forehead puckered. “Changed? What do you mean I’ve changed?”

“Well, you’ve gotten a tan.”

“I’m Italian,” Lovino answered proudly, standing a bit straighter. 

Antonio grinned wider. He wanted to laugh again. “You got highlights in your hair.”

Lovino’s hands flew to his head, patting the red-brown locks. “I didn’t _get_ highlights. That’s just what happens when hair’s out in the sun, _idiota_.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I guess you’re right,” Antonio apologized with an easy smile.

Lovino scowled, and his eyes followed Antonio with a mysterious glare. He opened and closed his mouth, then finally, he asked, “So what about you?”

“Hm?” Antonio snapped out of his reverie and focused on Lovino’s words again. “What do you mean?”

Lovino pursed his lips and his cheeks reddened a bit darker. “You seem…different. Like, tired or something.”

Antonio stopped, and in a second gathered himself. And it was easy knowing Lovino cared, at least a little bit. “Well, Lovi,” he started, smiling wide with a playful smile. “That’s because I’ve been waking up at dawn every morning, just waiting to run into you in the vineyards again. But apparently it’s been worth it,” he winked, and savored the brief flicker of happiness in Lovino’s eyes.

Of course, it couldn’t last, and Lovino was fast to scoff and turn his head away. “You damn liar. You haven’t changed at all.” Lovino started walking away, and said, “Whatever, I’m going back to bed.”

Antonio stood still and called after him, “Will I see you later, Lovi?”

Lovino’s body twisted around and he stared back. “What? Are you not going to follow me?”

Antonio grinned, his eyes shining. “I have work to do. Remember?”

Lovino’s body jerked upright and he stamped his foot. “God damn it, I know that. It’s just that—usually you—oh fuck it, I don’t care. I’ll see you when I see you, bastard.” He turned back around and continued his march back towards the house.

Antonio laughed as his only reply. He couldn’t help but laugh. His heart felt too full, his head too light, and his skin too warm. He didn’t want to think about his parents anymore. He didn’t want to think about them or his home in Spain, or all of his guilt.

He wanted to think of grapes and wine, gardening and horses. He wanted to love and live and have fun. 

After three months of darkness, Lovino finally brought back the sun, and now it was summer.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the wait! As always, there were obstacles in the way of getting this chapter up (i.e. college), but what's new?  
> Thank you so much for your patience, I hope this extra lengthy chapter was worth it! As mentioned briefly at the end of last chapter, the Jeanne scenes and Jeanne/Francis scenes are all written by my beta, hushedtones. She hasn't written her own fan fiction, but she's a wonderful writer, so I thought I'd give her a nudge into the world, haha.
> 
> Anyway, thank you so much for reading! Feedback is greatly appreciated :) And hopefully, I'll be back a lot sooner than usual!


	6. Freisa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's summer. Lovino's back, he sees Emma, he revisits the tomatoes, takes up some cooking, and greets an unexpected visitor on the balcony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh, thank you so, so much for your patience again. I'm so sorry for the wait (again). College. AGAIN. I was pretty overwhelmed last week, and for some reason I'm always thrown about how to start the next chapter xD Once I hit 2k I'm good, but gosh, starting is hard, right? I also couldn't decide which drama to throw at you guys next, haha. I had to rework the outline. But as always, your wonderful reviews encouraged/reminded me to keep going.
> 
> A special thank you to The Goliath Beetle for helping me find another wine-love related poem. *gives big hug* Thank you so, so much!
> 
> And just a quick warning about the Spanish. I don't speak it. This is all by the grace of Google Translate, but though try it may, it is not without flaw. Sorry about that.
> 
> Anyway, by some miracle I managed to finish this chapter, and I hope you guys like it :) It's summer! Weeeee~

_The Lovers_

_will drink wine night and day._

_They will drink until they can_

_tear away the veils of intellect_ _and_

_melt away the layers of shame and modesty._

_When in Love,_

_body, mind, heart and soul don't even exist._

_Become this,_

_fall in Love,_

_and you will not be separated again._

_– Rumi_

 

* * *

 

 _Summer_  

 

* * *

 

  
“He’s different.”

Feliciano looked up from his journal towards his brother’s suspicious stance near the window.

He set his pen down in the midst of drawing Tino’s newest vase of flowers, and asked, “What do you mean?”

Lovino’s didn’t stray from the bright glass. “Antonio,” he clarified, and his lips pressed together in distinct annoyance. Feliciano had seen that expression before. “He seems different. Tired. Quiet. _Something_.” Lovino turned to Feli, and at once Feliciano dropped his attention back to his journal.

“Ve~ I don’t know,” Feliciano deviated swiftly, and continued his sketch.

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I…don’t know?” Feliciano offered weakly, trying his best to seem helpless.

It worked, and Lovino turned his gaze back to the window, a subtle “tsk” under his breath.

Feli watched his brother continue his secret spying of Antonio – which of course, was always vehemently denied if pointed out – and wondered. Feliciano knew something was up with Antonio, he’d been suspecting it for a while now. But he thought perhaps it had something to do with lovesickness; is it possible it could be something else entirely?

“He’s definitely different,” Lovino said again, and Feliciano flicked his gaze to him. “I can just tell,” he added, and it didn’t escape Feliciano’s notice how his voice was tinged with worry.

Feliciano let his glee settle in his stomach before he trusted himself to speak. “Maybe you should talk to him,” he suggested slyly.

A warm blush crept over Lovino’s tan, and he gripped his forearms in a nervous gesture. “I don’t like talking to him.”

Well that won’t do.

“Do you want me to talk to him?” Feliciano asked, his tone innocent.

Lovino turned to him wide-eyed all the same, and Feliciano took that as an opportunity to continue.

“We became really good friends while you were away, I’m sure he’d tell me what’s wrong if I asked him. Maybe I could take him out and we could talk about it over dinner. What do you think?”

Lovino kept staring, a million words scrolling across his eyes. In a moment of boldness he started, “I – well…th-that’s just. I mean, I…” Lovino’s face was red now and he focused on the tiles of the kitchen floor. “I…don’t think he’d like that.”

“Really?” Feliciano asked, hiding his smile.

“Yeah,” Lovino shifted his weight and crossed his arms. “I’m probably wrong anyway. The bastard’s probably just tired from singing to the stupid grapes for too long.” Lovino seemed satisfied with his lie and started stalking out of the kitchen.

He brushed past the table, and Feliciano watched him. “Hey! Where are you going?” 

“Out,” Lovino replied, and the front door slammed behind him.

****

~/~

 

Antonio was lounging at the picnic table when he saw Lovino’s black motorcycle roll out of the garage. That was the first time he’d seen him in two days, and Lovino was leaving? That’s not fair. Where could he possibly be going?

“Toni,” Berwald called, and Antonio twisted around to see him. “I’m going to the h’rdware store f’r some supplies. Do you n’d anything?” 

Antonio blinked. Oh, well, he was going to bike to town, but if he could get a ride. That would make things easier.

 

~/~

 

It was just the same as Lovino had remembered it. Tulip Haven was still cute, still dainty and feminine—which makes it a wonder someone as tough and intimidating as Tim could work there too.

Lovino wondered whether he would feel differently about Emma now. When he was traveling, he met all sorts of nice, beautiful women; he even went out with a few. But after dinner and wine, and a few kisses, it was all the same. Boring. Lovino hoped that perhaps he just hadn’t managed to find the right one yet. He didn’t consider himself a romantic, but that’s the only possible reason. B-because, he’s not… _gay_ , right? That’s just…That would be…wrong? Disgusting? Normally, those words would apply, but knowing that Antonio is, well, bi or whatever—Lovino can’t think of him as disgusting. Antonio’s not any of those things. He’s…

Lovino stopped himself before he finished that thought with something incriminating. Now he was blushing when the bastard wasn’t even here, damn it! And he was hoping that all of this would disappear after being away for three months. Instead, it’s like everything was magnified ten times. Were Antonio’s eyes really that green the last time he saw him? Was his accent really that Spanish?

God damn it.

He cooled his cheeks with the backs of his palms and sighed. There’s no way he could be gay. All Lovino ever wanted to be was normal; to be amazing, but normal at the same time. Being gay would be difficult, and Lovino’s already had a hard-ass time getting this far being his screw-up, “straight,” angry self.

After a few minutes of mental ranting, Lovino just thought _Fuck it_ , and opened the door. The bell chimed and he looked around the humid, room. Yep. Green leaves, colorful flowers, nothing much has changed. Eventually, Lovino’s eyes found their way to the counter and he spotted Emma’s bright, happy figure busying with papers near the register.

“Hold on, just a moment!” She yelled, and shoveled papers into folders. “Alright, let me just put these away and I’ll be right with you!” She disappeared for a second as she stuffed the folders into cabinets, and in the next she was standing upright, smiling, perfect, pretty, and chipper, staring right at Lovino with pale, green eyes. When she recognized it was Lovino, her expression changed, and suddenly her smile was broader and less cat-like, and she skipped fast to pull him into a hug. “Oh, Lovino! I didn’t know you were back! You should’ve told me! You should’ve told me you were visiting today too, or else I might’ve dressed up!” She pulled away to examine Lovino’s face with sharp eyes. “Wow, you’re so tan! And your hair is kind of red too! That’s so cute!”

Lovino wanted to snap at the word cute, but instead he smiled. “ _Grazie_. I was in the sun a lot while I was away.

“Obviously,” she giggled, and looked around the room. “Well, there’s nothing much to do here. But if you have time, would you like to go out to dinner? You could tell me all about your trip!”

Oh, that was quick. “Well, I don’t know. I really just stopped to say hi. And isn’t it,” he checked his gold-band watch. “It’s five o’ clock. Isn’t that kind of early?”

“Well, we can go for a walk or something,” she waved her hand dismissively and flashed him a sly smile. “I just need to get out of here for a little bit. I’ve been working all day.”

Lovino blushed, though he didn’t know why. There was something about Emma’s smile that seemed…insinuating in a way? Whatever it was, it threw him off guard.

Emma seemed pleased with Lovino’s reaction and took the initiative to hook her arm through his and lead him towards the door. “I’m just going to take that as a yes.”

“But, um, what about the shop? Is there anyone looking after it?” Lovino mumbled, feeling even more nervous about the close proximity. That’s strange, it never bothered him so much before. Maybe that was a good thing?

“Oh, don’t worry about that! Tim’s in the back. He’ll take care of it. And his wife is around too, so there’s even more help,” she said easily and guided him along the sidewalk in the direction of downtown. “Honestly, that’s part of the reason I feel so suffocated in there. All they do is try to set me up, and blah, blah, blah.” She rolled her eyes. “Why is it that married people feel the need to match every single person out there?”

Lovino’s chest eased at a familiar topic. “I don’t know. My grandpa’s always going on about how Feli and I should be dating or whatever. And it’s not just him, it’s his friends too. I feel like that’s just an Italian thing, damn it,” Lovino grumbled, and Emma laughed.

Lovino laughed despite himself, and his cheeks warmed. That was it. The feeling he got when he was around Emma. It was pleasant: he liked her. She was even surprising, and he liked that too. But…

He knew.

In the end, three months didn’t change anything at all. 

And if he couldn’t be attracted to any Italian girl, any American girl, or Emma, what then?

****

~/~

****

The walk was fairly short. Emma took Lovino down the streets and window-shopped for a while. It was a fun activity to do with someone as fashionable as Lovino, and it seemed as though he had an opinion on every dress, every coat, every watch and earring that they passed. That was one of the very many things Emma loved about Lovino: she liked how much he cared. He took an interest in everything, if at least to hate it, and there was usually some reason as to why. But talking to Lovino was so fascinating, so lively, he was never boring.

So many times when she dated men, they’d be too careful to talk to her, too polite or too fearful, or just too reserved to say what they were really thinking. And it always bothered her. Lovino rarely did so. If they talked about politics or religion or fashion or cooking, he had an opinion on everything, and she loved it when he would veer off on impassioned tangents that’d catch the ears of strangers. Emma even loved his foul language.

But, even Lovino wasn’t completely honest. There were times he closed off too. And it always occurred somewhere near the mention of love.

Emma didn’t know if she loved Lovino. She had strong feelings for him, she cared for him, and she even felt protective over him. But she didn’t know, and perhaps she didn’t know because she knew there was some part of Lovino he was keeping hidden from her. And it bothered her, because of all things, Emma despised secrets.

For dinner, Emma took Lovino to another of her favorite bistros on Main Street. It was French-inspired cuisine with a modern flair, but Lovino insisted he wasn’t very hungry and didn’t care where they ate, so she felt free to dine there. And true to his word, Lovino spent most of the evening nursing his Sauvignon Blanc, and paying little attention to his quiche Lorraine.

Like the last time they dined together, Lovino faded in and out of the conversation, obviously haunted by something on his mind, but any time Emma tried to ask if something was wrong, Lovino would shake her off, changing the subject abruptly to some rant about the shitty wine or the dumb-ass quiche.

But Emma wasn’t going to give up that easily.

“So Lovino,” she started, awakening Lovino from his trance. “Is anything new going on at the vineyards? Anything since you’ve been away?”

His eyes wandered up in thought and briefly Emma detected the trace of annoyance? Worry? But before she could decide he took a sip of wine and replied. “Not really. Berwald’s still intimidating as shit. Kiku’s still disappearing. But apparently Tino and Berwald are dating. That’s new.”

“Oh, I think I saw them downtown the other day!” She remembered, and recalled how nervous Tino looked. Berwald was also frequenting the nursery now, so it all made sense. “Funny, I guess I didn’t really expect it from Berwald.”

Lovino suddenly tensed, looking at her with more suspicion. “Oh?”

“Yeah, I guess I just assumed he was more of a loner,” Emma laughed, and her mind wandered elsewhere. “Ah, but that actually reminds me! Did you ever get the chance to talk to Antonio about—”

“Fucking hell!” Lovino yelled, and in the same moment, his glass of wine fell, shattering to tiny, glinting pieces on the floor. His face was red, and his eyes a bit wide, but he immediately turned to Emma with a prepared rant. “Damn it, I’m sorry. Let me call the waiter over. The fucking glass must have just slipped through my fingers.

Emma watched as Lovino fumbled in his seat, waving down a waiter and continuing to spew a mix of apologies and profanity. His whole aura felt extremely agitated, and Emma couldn’t help but feel it was staged somehow. She felt like he was distracting her again. She was nearing forbidden territory.

“Lovino,” Emma said, calling him back with a touch to his hand. He jumped and looked away from the waiter, who was finishing brushing the glass into a pan, and straight to her eyes. “I have to ask something that’s been on my mind.”

His face froze. Quietly, he muttered a hoarse, “Yes?”

Emma smiled reassuringly, not wanting to scare him off. “Did you maybe…Did you meet someone else when you were in Italy?”

“What?” He asked, not moving a muscle.

“Well,” Emma began again, a bit shy about her question now. “I was just wondering if maybe you met someone else. We were never really an official thing before you left, so I wouldn’t blame you or anything. And you’re so cute, I’d completely understand.”

At some point, maybe midway through her reply, understanding lit Lovino’s eyes, and he relaxed, releasing a heavy breath he’d been holding in for too long.

Then he chuckled lightly, picking up the new glass the waiter had set for him and pouring another glass of wine. “No, not really. I went on a few dates, but nothing serious.”

“Really? You didn’t meet any pretty Italian girls while you were away?” Emma asked again, happy but slightly suspicious.

Lovino for some reason was laughing more. “No. I mean, I met some, sure. But they’re not really, um—” he stopped and looked away, his blush darkening and spreading down his cheeks. “Never mind.”

Emma raised an eyebrow, curiosity sparkling in her bright eyes. “Not really what?”

Lovino’s face was bright red, but there was little he could do to hide it. “I-I don’t know.”

“Not really your type?” Emma suggested, hoping to ease Lovino’s embarrassment, no matter how cute it was to watch.

His eyes snapped to hers in a second, but whatever he was searching for he didn’t seem to find it and he returned to grasping his glass of wine with a shaky hand. “Y-yeah,” was all he said in reply.

“Oh, I feel so flattered,” Emma giggled. “To think that I’m able to compete with all of the fabulous Sofia Lorens out there.”

Lovino only smiled as he continuously downed his glass and poured another. He was halfway through the bottle.

And it was when the bottle was almost finished that something worse happened.

Emma was still stuck on the topic of types and love-interests, trying desperately to pry any information about Lovino that she could, when a visitor stopped by.

“Have you every had a serious girlfriend before?” She asked, leaning over the desk and admiring how handsome Lovino looked in candlelight.

Lovino on the other hand, was not so comfortable. The subject made him fidgety as well as surprisingly thirsty, but the more he drank, the less fidgety he got, and slowly he was replying in longer, perhaps more honest sentences. “N-no, not really,” he began. He always started his answers hesitantly before adding more information. “I’ve been on lots of dates, but I’ve never really been interested in having one before.”

“Oh, why’s that?”

His forehead creased and he looked down at his plate, still mostly full of quiche. “I’m not sure. I’ve just never wanted to be with somebody that way, I guess.”

“Really? No one?” Emma gawked at him, surprised. “Not even a crush you never talked to?”

She watched as Lovino’s fist balled, how his eyes stayed pointed decidedly away from her. Then suddenly another voice interrupted. It was familiar to both of them, and neither of them enjoyed the sound.

“Lovi!” He called, and at once Lovino’s eyes shot up from the table, darting frantically for him.

Emma did the same, her heart pounding and her eyebrows furrowing in a mix of confusion, frustration, and jealousy.

They both caught sight of Antonio, who’d walked close to the table and standing nearer to Lovino than anyone would’ve liked. He was dressed in his farm clothes: a dirty, red button-down and a torn pair of jeans. But it suited him. And even the careless disarray of curls and mess of dirt and scrapes on his hands from working earlier in the day were characteristically charming. Emma thought she was finally over her grudge against him, but when his smile broadened, and his green eyes crinkled, her heart stuttered and she decided No. Even now, the bitter heartache of an unrequited crush plagued her. And she couldn’t help but feel bitter around him.

“Antonio,” Emma said, speaking instead of Lovino. “I haven’t seen you in a while. What are you doing here?” She forced a smile out of politeness, and watched Antonio carefully. She was aware that her cheeks felt warm and her palms suddenly sweaty, but she didn’t care. Antonio was gay. She was sure of it. Which is why it hurt so much more that she was still attracted to him. It hurt to have no chance at all.

Antonio was still smiling, like always, and it was painful to watch, but Emma still did so. “Sorry to interrupt. I was in town with Berwald on a few errands and we decided to get dinner. I didn’t think I’d run into you two here!” He announced with an easy laugh, and slowly his gaze shifted to Lovino. “Are you two here on a date?”

“N—”

“Yes,” Emma responded automatically, a tinge of anger slipping into her voice. Afterwards she realized Lovino had begun to answer to, and when she thought she might have heard him say no she finally turned her attention to him.

Lovino was busy hiding half of his face with his palm, but it was obvious how scarlet his blush had become.

Emma took note and looked back to Antonio who’d also been watching Lovino’s expression with avid interest. Emma narrowed her eyes. She saw that look on Antonio’s face before, when she ran into him in the nursery several months ago. What was it? His mouth was turned up, slightly parted, like torn between talking and listening, and his eyes seemed so vivid, so green, so alive – he seemed so consumed with watching Lovino. Like a moth to the moon and stars. He looked intoxicated. He looked addicted. Emma’s heart tore when she realized: Antonio. Looked. Head. Over. Heels. In. Love. _With Lovino._

“How’ve you been doing Lovino? I haven’t seen you in a while,” Antonio spoke again, his lips caressing the name Lovino so much, Emma thought her heart was splintering.

“Yeah, I, um…” Lovino’s voice trailed away, and Emma turned to him. He wasn’t hiding behind his hand anymore, and it seemed like he couldn’t help but meet Antonio’s gaze. His features seemed so soft, so delicate, like even though he was flushed and shaking, he was happy. Then his lips pressed together and his eyes turned down to the wine glass. He took another sip. “I’ve been busy. What’d you expect bastard?”

Antonio briefly looked to Emma, and kept his smile. “I can see that,” he said, his voice slightly quieter and less cheery. His body swayed closer to Lovino, his hand gripped the back of the chair, grazing the back of Lovino’s shirt. “But I’ve missed you. Maybe we can hang out sometime.”

Lovino’s face seemed so bright: Emma wondered if it was in happiness or anger. But…Lovino didn’t look like that when he was angry. Come to think of it, he’s never looked like that before. He seemed so anxious, so unsure and fearful. Not a confident and successful twenty-something-year-old. Like a helpless teenage boy.

Emma noticed the shine in Lovino’s eyes – excitement and sadness. “Yeah, I,” he stopped and cleared his throat. “Maybe sometime.” He seemed to detect where Antonio’s hand was and made a conscious move to lean a bit further over the table, ears glowing.

“Sounds wonderful,” Antonio smiled. He looked like he wanted to touch Lovino again. “I was wondering if you had the chance to try the tomatoes. Did you?”

“Th-the what?” Lovino asked, pushing his quiche around on his plate.

“The tomatoes we planted. They’re perfectly ripe right now. You should try them. They’re delicious,” Antonio’s voice deepened at the last part, his eyes glittering in amusement. He enjoyed the sight of Lovino dropping the fork, and the string of curses following.

When he managed to say something coherent, it went like, “I doubt it bastard. I’m sure they’re fucking weird tomatoes.”

“Will you try them anyway though? I’d love it if you did,” Antonio said, his tone more meaningful, but the smile still there. 

Lovino was still trying to hide. From Emma and Antonio. Hesitantly, he answered, “Y-yeah, I’ll eat them. Whatever.” He looked up to Antonio, a bit more curious than nervous. “Did something happen?”

Antonio laughed immediately, like Lovino said something funny. “What do you mean?”

Lovino pursed his lips, like he was trying to scrutinize Antonio’s face. “You seem different again. Like usual.”

“Is that bad?” Antonio replied, his voice light and humorous.

“No,” Lovino said and at once turned down in embarrassment. He continued anyway, “B-but I thought the other day you were…oh fuck. I don’t care. Just leave already. You’ve been here too long.”

Again, Antonio laughed, and it was that beautiful, earthy, true laugh that everyone loved. That Emma loved.

“Well, I’ll see you at home anyway,” Antonio finally replied. His smile seemed more mysterious. “Try not to hide so much, alright."

Lovino slammed his fist, eyes golden, passionate, staring right at Antonio. “I’m not hiding! I’m busy! I have a fucking job to do, you know.”

“I suppose so,” Antonio chuckled, his hands running through his curls. “Try to make time for me then.”

Lovino opened his mouth to say something crude, something mean, but he stopped himself. Had Emma ever seen Lovino’s eyes so conflicted, so sensitive and enigmatic? Maybe she’d never really seen him at all. The glance he gave Antonio when Antonio wasn’t paying attention was so true. He liked Antonio. He liked him in a way he never liked Emma.

When Antonio turned back, Lovino was already facing the table, and he muttered his final reply, “Whatever bastard. Just go back to the damn grapes.”

Antonio was already smiling, but he softened to something that silently read I’d do anything. And Emma knew he meant it. “See you later, Lovi,” Antonio called, as he slowly walked away. He caught sight of Emma’s eyes and added, “Bye Emma. Have a nice dinner.” And he was gone. It didn’t seem like he was here for dinner at all, but Emma already knew that.

Lovino didn’t seem like he realized, he was too busy finishing the wine and mumbling foul Italian under his breath. That’s what Emma thought at least. But then in a subtle movement, he was holding onto his cross necklace, his eyes were closed, and it looked like he was praying.

_Oh._

Everything clicked into place. Emma understood. She was never in the picture. Her unrequited love for Antonio was still unrequited; he only had eyes for one. And she thought perhaps Lovino could be hers, one day, somehow. But he would never be interested. Because whether Lovino Vargas was gay or not, one thing was for certain: he liked Antonio Carriedo.

But it seemed like Lovino didn’t want any of this.

Emma sighed in resignation. Despite her heartbreak and sadness, she was frustrated with Lovino. It’s so often to walk the earth never having your love returned, why couldn’t he realize how lucky he was? He needed to be pushed.

“Lovino,” she said, her voice smooth but her eyes somber. Lovino snapped to attention too quickly, just remembering she was there. She laughed bitterly, “Do you even like me?”

He stared and his color drained. “Wh-what? Of course I do,” he stuttered, and tried to grasp at any remaining confidence.

“I don’t think so,” she said and she held Lovino’s gaze. “I think you like somebody else.”

In a flash, his face reddened once more, and his eyes shined in embarrassment, like he wanted to cry. But he held his scowl and replied, “No, I don’t. I don’t give a fuck about that tomato bastard with his stupid comments and hippie lifestyle, and his dumb, stupid Spanish accent.” He grew more impassioned as he spoke, but as soon as he finished his eyes widened in horrification and he tried to backtrack, “Sh-shit. Stop looking at me like that! I swear, I hate the guy. I always have. Haven’t you been listening to what I’m saying? He’s always just so stupid a-and… _there_ , and – ugh! It drives me insane! And I swear he knows what I’m thinking half the time. And he’s so dumb. And he doesn’t even like red wine! Did you know that?”

Emma only looked at him, quiet and dejected. Then she spoke calmly, “Lovino, I’ve never liked it when you lied.”

“I’m not lying,” he replied loudly.

“Well, you’re not telling the whole truth.”

“Yes, I am,” he insisted, and he closed his eyes in frustration. “I do hate him. I can’t stand him.”

Emma’s heart melted a bit and she wished she could lecture Lovino into understanding. But she couldn’t. He would never listen anyway. He was just too stubborn.

So she exhaled again and she gathered her things. “That’s too bad then. Because it’s obvious he likes you.”

Lovino flinched, but didn’t open his eyes. He might’ve mumbled some sort of protest, but Emma didn’t bother to hear it. 

“Lovino, you’re very lucky,” she said, her smile weak and her voice high, almost broken. Emma stood up to swing her purse over her shoulder and she placed a hand on Lovino’s shoulder, calling his attention to her eyes again. “You have the possibility for a great love story. You’ve found someone amazing who loves you back,” she paused, wiping a few tears away. “So, coming from someone who’s still looking. I wouldn’t waste it if I were you.”

She pressed a light quick to his cheek, barely grazing it at all, and didn’t stay a second longer before she fled through the door.

She wanted Lovino to be happy. She did. And as sad as she felt right now, she knew that if Lovino decided to squander it all, she would feel even worse. 

Why can’t people realize how lucky they have it until it’s too late?

 

~/~

****

Lovino was confused. He was confused about what he was feeling, what just happened, about his meeting with Antonio…He was just so damn confused.

But at the same time, he couldn’t help but feel slightly relieved. At least Emma knew he wasn’t interested in her the way she wanted him to be; and although he would’ve loved more than anything to be in a relationship with her and save himself from this religious torture, he hated lying to her. So at least there was that.

However, that was only a very small relief in the grand scheme of things. 

After Emma left dinner, Lovino sat there in a bit of a daze, just replaying Antonio’s interruption, Emma’s words, and everything else in his head. And when he was finally sick of sitting by himself at the table he paid the check and took off. It was a comfort to be on his motorcycle again. Only then did he feel free, capable, unafraid and unattached to anything. God and Antonio couldn’t find him there. He could run away any time he pleased. He wouldn’t, because of Feli of course. And the vineyards. And Nonno. But he could.

It was nighttime when he rolled down the driveway, and the lanterns bordering the road flickered orange and yellow near the grass. Lovino’s eyes darted to the tomatoes unwillingly. After he parked the motorcycle, Lovino snuck over to the garden, sneaky and suspiciously, like a thief, until he was crouched near the tomato plants. Reluctantly, Lovino admitted it: Antonio was right. The tomatoes did look good. He really did have a way with plants, it was obvious.

As Lovino grasped one shiny tomato from the vine his lips turned up in a half-smile. Then there was some shuffling nearby, and a voice called:

“Lovino!”

“Holy shit!” Lovino blurted, and at once he fell over, the tomato toppling near his side. As he was scrambling for his dignity, Lovino pushed himself up and tried to find that infuriating, stupid, asshole of a “bastard!”

Antonio appeared by his side, a bit too close, but trying to help Lovino up anyway. He was smiling and glinting, and when his hands touched Lovino’s to haul him to his knees, Lovino swore his skin felt like fire.

“I’m so happy you came,” Antonio said, his voice too quiet and too smooth. Lovino shivered and slapped his hand away. Antonio was still grinning and settled for sitting down next to him. “I didn’t think you’d actually listen to me.”

Lovino blushed and tried to hide his face. He didn’t want Antonio to see him at all. It was dark, but at the same time, it made this feel clearer, more intimate. “Bastard, I’m not listening to you. I wanted a snack.” 

Antonio chuckled, light and easily. “Ah, was that it then? Well, that’s fine. You’ll have to tell me what you think.” He looked at him expectantly, his eyes trailing all over Lovino’s face.

Lovino waited for Antonio to say something else, and then he realized Antonio was waiting for him. Lovino glared at him. “What? You mean now?”

Antonio nodded. 

“What the fuck? I just had dinner. I don’t want a random tomato right now,” Lovino said, stumbling over the words following dinner. When he saw Antonio’s face light up with a question, some other stupid-ass thing he wanted to talk about, Lovino quickly interrupted, “B-but what the hell are you doing up? Wasn’t your bedtime like an hour ago?”

Antonio still looked at him like he was debating whether to allow Lovino to drop the subject or not, and finally his lips turned up in a small smile that told Lovino he’d talk about that later and he looked at the stars. “ _Si_ , well it’s supposed to be. I couldn’t sleep. I got a phone call earlier and it kind of woke me up. I thought I’d come out here and relax.”

“You got a phone call?” Lovino asked skeptically. He was sure it was from one of Antonio’s drunk, weirdo friends. “Why would that keep you up?”

Antonio laughed a bit louder and he brushed some of his curls away from his face. “Ah, no reason. It was a silly conversation. If I stay out here for a bit longer, I’ll get sleepy,” he said, his voice gentle and calm.

Lovino didn’t know whether to believe him or not. “Are you saying you’d fall asleep with me here?”

“Um,” Antonio paused to think. Then he turned to Lovino with a happy smile. “Yes, I think so!”

“ _Tch_ —” Lovino blushed and fiddled with the tomato in his hands. “So you’re saying I’m boring, is that it?” In less than a second, Lovino regretted what he said, and he realized Antonio’s shoulder brushed his and that warm laugh played nearer to his ears.

“Lovino, even you must know that you’re the most un-boring person in all of California. Probably in all of Italy and Spain too.”

Carefully, Lovino tilted his gaze up to examine Antonio’s face. He was always so distracted by the green eyes, the smile, the tan, it was hard to see much else. But there was so much more. Lovino was sure of it now. Though Antonio was an excellent actor, an excellent liar, he couldn’t lie when he didn’t talk. His eyes were still emerald green, but they seemed tired; they were still vibrant, but it seemed like they sparkled more from sadness now than excitement. And it seemed so exhausting to hold that smile all day, Lovino wondered what he looked like when no one was looking. 

“What is it?” Antonio asked, drawing Lovino’s attention away from his green eyes and to his mouth.

“What?” Lovino repeated, blushing and scratching his neck when he realized he was staring at Antonio’s lips now. He shifted his gaze to the floor.

“You were staring at me. It looked like you wanted to say something,” Antonio said, his voice inviting and pleasant. But when wasn’t it?

“I,” Lovino began and stopped himself in doubt. “Well, I was kind of wondering if something hap—”

A jolly, acoustic ringtone interrupted him, and suddenly Antonio was scrambling his pockets to find the source. He fished out an old flip-phone (it made Lovino internally cringe), and after a brief glance at the screen he opened it to start talking.

“ _Hola mamá, ¿cómo estás?”_ He began and offered Lovino an apologetic smile. There was a lot of talking on the other line, all Spanish, and Antonio seemed like he was straining to keep an amiable face in front of Lovino.

And for once it was obvious.

“ _Lo siento, no me refiero a preocuparte. Es sólo que—sí, lo entiendo. Lo siento. Pero yo no he cambiado de opinión_ ,” Antonio replied hurriedly, his tongue skidding over the r’s. If he didn’t sound so positively nervous, Lovino might’ve remembered how attractive that was. But he did, and so much so it was making Lovino nervous.

“Um, is everything okay?” Lovino prodded tentatively, his fingers reaching out to touch Antonio’s shoulder, calling his attention.

Antonio was hunched over his knees, his phone pressed fervently to his ear; Spanish was leaking into the quiet night air, but for once it didn’t sound pleasant. At the touch, he looked up from the ground, met Lovino’s wide, worried eyes and remembered to smile. He mouthed a simple It’s fine! and waved his hand dismissively. There was still chattering on the other end, but Antonio decided to hold the phone against his shirt, muffling the voices. He stood up a bit clumsily, knocking some tomatoes as he tried to find his footing.

“Where are you going?” Lovino whispered, following Antonio’s bumbling escape with tense eyes.

Antonio managed to look over his shoulder, eyes hidden in the shadows, but his smile perfectly visible. Blinding. “Ah, don’t worry Lovino. I just have to take this. It’s my, um,” he paused with uncharacteristic unease. But he took a breath and his smile was back. “It’s my family, so I can’t really say no. But I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? _Buenas noches_ , Lovino.”

“But I—” Lovino tried to call after him, scrambling to his feet as well. Antonio had already skipped down the path though, and by the sound of his voice and footsteps, it didn’t seem like he wanted to be followed. Lovino’s heart sank and he watched him go. Why did he feel so worried? But the look on Antonio’s face, the fear in his voice, it made Lovino want to wrap his arms around him and tell him everything was fine. When he realized where his thoughts had gone again, Lovino flushed and picked up his tomato with a huff. “God fucking dammit,” he muttered and started bundling several others in his arms.

He’d show Feli who could talk to that bastard.

****

~/~

****

The next day, when Feli came downstairs for a late breakfast, he smelled something different than Tino’s usual toast and butter, sausage and pastry. It smelled Italian, like...lasagna? Was that possible?

He entered the kitchen with a growling stomach and was pleasantly surprised to see Lovino standing near the stove, red apron tied at the waist, and his glare directed at a pot of tomato sauce.

“Ve~ _Ciao fratello_! What are you making?” Feli asked, and skipped to Lovino’s side to inspect the different ingredients.

Lovino stiffened and his red blush didn’t go unnoticed. “I’m making some damn lasagna, what does it look like?”

“Ah, but you don’t usually cook anymore. What brought this on?” Feliciano looked up, eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“Well, um,” Lovino picked up the wooden spoon and stirred mindlessly to distract himself. “I-I was talking to Antonio the other day…”

Feli bit his lip to stifle his ecstatic giggle. “Yes,” he urged, poking Lovino in the shoulder.

Lovino gripped his arm and turned away, trying in vain to hide how transparent his face was. “W-well, I was talking to him the other day, and it kind of looking like he was **—** I don’t know. Kind of down. So I-I thought I’d…”

“Yes?~” Feliciano leaned against Lovino’s shoulder, begging for him to continue.

“A-and—God damn it. I thought I’d make some fucking lasagna to cheer him up, alright? Sue me,” he yelled, settling back to his safe nook near the oven in the next moment.

Feliciano clapped his hands together in a feat of triumph before pulling Lovino close for a messy hug. “Aw, Lovi! That’s so sweet! I’m so proud of you! That’s definitely going cheer him up. I’m sure he’ll be _so_ excited.” Feliciano made sure to emphasize the _so_ in a way that made Lovino flush darker in adorable embarrassment.

“Y-yeah, whatever. It’s just fucking lasagna,” Lovino mumbled, taking care to focus only on the tomato sauce and not at all at Feli’s grinning, giddy face.

“But it’s lasagna you made, Lovi. And with his tomatoes. That’s just so—”

“Damn it! Don’t you have some notebook to scribble this dumb crap in?” Lovino shouted, shooing Feliciano away with a wave of the hot, messy spoon.

Feliciano just laughed as he finished the thought in his head.

Lovino is just so.. _.sweet._

****

~/~

****

When the lasagna was finally done it was already near two in the afternoon, and both Feliciano and Lovino were miserable with hunger and frustration. Lovino refused to eat until the lasagna was done, and Feliciano refused to eat anything but lasagna, because he always considered Lovino’s lasagna to be the best in the family.

But after it was finally finished, and Lovino squared off a hearty piece for Antonio, Feliciano was able to finally eat his late breakfast-turned-into-a-late-lunch, while he documented today’s interesting events in his journal.

Lovino placed his spectacular cut of lasagna on the center of a clean plate, and only stopped to for a second to smack Feliciano lightly on the head, encouraging him to s _hut the hell up_. Then he hurried out the door before Tino would gush too.

He exhaled in relief outside, but secretly, Lovino was hoping he wouldn’t have to actually give the lasagna to Antonio. Maybe just pass it along to Berwald or Kiku because Antonio was mowing, or gardening, or whatever the fuck he does.

So he muttered a silent prayer and continued walking shyly down the path. As he passed the lemon tree something caught his attention, and Lovino stopped to see. His heart stuttered when he realized it was Antonio. And Antonio was sleeping soundly near the tree, more in the sun than the shade, his breathing slow and deep.

Lovino almost dropped the plate in surprise. Of all things he didn’t expect Antonio to be sleeping. Wasn’t that something he did later in the afternoon?

“Goddamn that lazy bastard,” Lovino mumbled, and crept closer despite everything. He wandered around so that he could peer at Antonio’s face, maybe to check if he was crying like Feliciano said he was some time ago. Ah. But he wasn’t.

Antonio’s face was calm. His lips turned up, like he was having a good dream. His cheeks soft and relaxed, warm with the sun and his tan. His lashes were still and featherlight, and his hair, like always, was splayed in a mess of untamed curls. It was an infuriatingly attractive look. Lovino hated that he liked it.

But at least he looked happy, Lovino thought. It was a weight off of his chest seeing him like that. He looked down at the lasagna and wondered what to do. Should he leave it here? But there are ants. Maybe if he put it on top of Antonio. But the clumsy bastard would most likely knock it over.

Lovino sighed in exasperation. He’d just have to leave it with Berwald and Kiku, and that meant walking the long way to the farmers’ house. Before he took a step away he glanced back at Antonio. There were leaves in his hair and it bothered Lovino.

So swiftly, Lovino looked right and left, all around for anyone looking, and he knelt to Antonio’s side. He set the plate down on the ground and slowly, deftly, he lifted his fingers over Antonio’s face, brushed them purposefully over the skin of his cheekbone, because it beckoned him, and then made work on plucking the leaves from Antonio’s hair. One. Two. Three. Four. That was all. But before he forced himself to go away, Lovino delicately threaded his fingers through the soft hair. He didn’t know why. He just had to. It always looked so tempting. And it was as soft as it seemed.

But the wind blew like a warning, and Lovino quickly retracted his hand, picked up the plate and stalked away. He didn’t want to look over his shoulder, just in case Antonio hadn’t been sleeping the whole time.

Why did God have to torture him after doing a good deed, damn it.

****

~/~

****

Antonio had a good dream. He dreamt of sunshine and grapevines. It was the Tesoro vineyard, but somehow more spectacular. Why was that? He felt someone touch his face and he looked to his side. Oh, that was right.

With a smile and uncontrollable laughter, Antonio looped his arms around Lovino and pulled him to his chest. This was heaven. It was perfection. The warmth, the softness, the smell of sweet-scented, rosy cologne. And Lovino seemed so close, like they were magnetic.

It wasn’t like the nightmares before. His family wasn’t here yelling. Lovino wasn’t running away crying.

He knew it was a dream. He knew it. But he savored it anyway. Lovino could never be so intimate, though he was more tender than he let on, he’s too guarded to ever show it. But here, now, he’s holding on to Antonio, his hands on his cheeks, his lips at his jaw. Fingers tangled in Antonio’s hair and it felt so soothing, so real. Was Lovino’s touch always so gentle?

Antonio wanted to see his eyes. What was Lovino thinking? What did this mean? he wanted to see the gold, the brown, the dark and the light. He wanted to see, he did but something was blocking his view–

White flashed in front of him, and then there was green. Antonio glanced around without moving, trying to comprehend. He groaned helplessly when he realized it really was all a dream. And he never got to see Lovino’s eyes too.

He flopped on his back and rolled his head to the side. Not too far ahead there was a figure. Lovino.

He was walking very fast, very determined, straight for the farmers’ house. If he was so close, Antonio wondered if some part of his dream was real after all.

Antonio laughed softly, smiled, and ran his fingers over the grass in inexplicable happiness.

****

~/~

 

Lovino locked himself away again. After he shoved the lasagna at Berwald he rushed an awkward “Here you go. Don’t say anything. Just hand it to the dumb bastard. And no, not you, not Kiku. The dumb-ass, Spanish one. _Ciao_.” Then at once he sprinted back to the main house, not bothering to check on Antonio or whatever else. He went all the way up to his room, his second haven and slammed the door. He wasn’t taking any chances.

For a while, Lovino busied himself with meticulously folding and ironing all of his clothes. He was stressed and stupidly nervous, and it was the only way to distract himself. But eventually that ran out, and he focused on work. He called Nonno, the usual managers, the marketing staff, whatever, and when he got annoyed, Lovino decided to chuck the phone on the bed and do something else.

But what else? Was there anything else? It suddenly scared him when he realized how his life was almost completely dominated by work. He must have some hobbies. Didn’t he used to do something? Oh, he used to keep a journal like Feli. That was something. He supposed he could start that again; perhaps it would clear his mind. Now, Lovino scurried around his grand bedroom, hunting for any notebook, any forgotten leather-bound or paperback he could write in. Lovino muttered a quiet “aha” at the sight of a red notebook snuggled between two novels, and he remembered at once it was a journal he’d meant to write in at the beginning of his move to California. Well, he screwed that up.

Pen in hand, Lovino opened the book to start. What to write? What…

At once Lovino thought of Antonio. Of the millions of ways he wanted to describe those eyes, that smile, that infuriating, goddamn Spanish accent, the laugh, the walk, the breath, the tilt of the head. Every single thing.

What did he always say Antonio was like? Was it sunshine? That doesn’t seem true anymore. Antonio’s not so clear, not so truthful. He was more like fire. A candle or a bonfire? It all depended. Sometimes, very recently, it looked like Antonio was ready to be extinguished – like that immortal charm and warmth could actually be ended at any moment. Then at other times, when Lovino least wanted it, Antonio was like a wildfire. Strong, passionate, contagious, and closing in on Lovino from every angle.

Lovino frowned and laid his forehead against the paper in frustration. What the fuck was he doing writing this?

_Tap!_

Lovino lifted his head lazily and looked around. What’s that sound?

_Tap!_

“Damn it,” Lovino mumbled, and stood up from the chair to wander around the room. No one was here. Could it be something outside? He unlocked the doors to the balcony and swung them open. _Holy—_ “What the fuck?” He shouted, and his eyes widened in surprise and fear.

Antonio was straddling the railing of the balcony, in the process of climbing over, and when he met Lovino’s eyes his face predictably broke out in a smile. “Oh, hey Lovi!” He plopped down on the balcony floor, and Lovino made a preemptive step backwards into his room. Antonio grinned mischievously and announced, “Ta-da!”

“ _Ta-da_? What the fuck do you mean _ta-da_? What are you doing on my balcony? How’d you even get up here?” Lovino blurted, hiding his shaking hands behind his back.

Antonio looked at him like it were obvious. “I climbed up of course! Haven’t you noticed the vine right there? I always meant to cut it, but…” he laughed suspiciously, and Lovino narrowed his eyes. “Anyway, it came in handy today!”

“What, are you going to rob me or something?” Lovino asked sarcastically.

Antonio’s eyes lit in amusement at the suggestion, and it worried Lovino the way he didn’t laugh, and only smiled smoothly. “I actually came here to thank you.”

Lovino’s cheeks reddened and he turned his gaze away. “Thank me for what?”

“The lasagna you made. It was really good! And it made me happy knowing you used our tomatoes,” he said, his voice sincere.

Lovino crossed his arms and curled his fingers in the loose fabric. “Don’t get excited bastard. Feli’s the one who begged me to make lasagna. You were lucky to get the extras,” he lied, but his skin burned anyway. He was sure Antonio knew.

“Ah, I see,” was the unexpected reply, and Lovino looked up to see Antonio looking away wistfully, his smile smaller (it never disappeared entirely).

Lovino suddenly regretted what he said. He only wanted to make Antonio feel better. Why did he always have to do something stupid?

“H-how are you doing?” Lovino blurted, and nervously waited for Antonio to meet his eyes again.

Antonio looked so touched it made Lovino’s heart stop. He smiled genuinely and said, “I’m doing well.”

“Really?” Lovino asked skeptically, and leaned against the doorframe.

Something like acknowledgement glinted in Antonio’s eyes. “Yes,” he replied, his voice so sure. “I had a wonderful dream actually.”

Lovino hated that mysterious smile. “Well, why are you telling me?”

“No reason,” Antonio chuckled and ran his fingers over the metal.

Lovino watched him balance against the wiry metal. “Hey, get the fuck away from there.”

“Hm,” Antonio looked up confused but took one step forward. “Why?”

“Because you’re making me nervous! It looks like that thing could fall over at any minute,” Lovino snapped, and encouraged Antonio over with his waving hands.

Antonio didn’t seem to mind at all, and walked over even happier.

“Oh shut it,” Lovino said automatically, pressing himself closer to the doorway and away from Antonio’s near figure.

“I didn’t say anything,” Antonio smiled, his voice quiet.

“You were thinking something, and knowing you, it was probably something stupid,” Lovino mumbled and fidgeted with his necklace.

Antonio noticed the movements but didn’t say anything. He rubbed his arms and looked at Lovino helplessly. “It’s kind of cold out here, isn’t it?”

“Not really. I like the cold anyway,” Lovino mumbled, a bit self-conscious. If only it was colder. He caught Antonio looking at him again and he frowned. “What are you doing here anyway? Was it just to thank me? Is there anything else you wanted, bastard?”

Antonio’s eyes softened and he gave Lovino another small, meek smile. “I just wanted to be with you for a little while.”

Lovino stared at him. He stared at him for too long until he remember to a.) frown and b.) look away. His face was too, too warm. “Fine. Whatever.”

Antonio let out a small gasp of unexpected happiness, and looked torn between moving closer and hugging Lovino and staying where he was.

Lovino shifted so he was leaning against the wall, still with his arms crossed. He watched Antonio and Antonio watched him, and although it seemed like the bastard was perfectly content with the situation, even possibly happy, Lovino was frustrated.

“Now what?” Lovino demanded, and he felt the heat travel down his neck.

“I don’t know,” Antonio shrugged, and his eyes looked up briefly. He made eye contact again, his eyes dark. “How was dinner the other day?”

“Fine,” Lovino responded automatically, his tone defensive. But he knew Antonio knew it was all a lie and his resolve wavered. “Well, Emma and I ended up breaking up, so I guess it wasn’t all fine.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you were together,” Antonio said, and it irritated Lovino that he didn’t even sound empathetic.

“Well we were,” Lovino replied aggressively and turned away.

After a moment, Antonio added, “I’m sorry.”

Lovino sighed. He couldn’t lie about this anymore. “No, it’s all right.” He paused. “I never really liked her that way anyway.”

“Oh,” Antonio echoed, his tone thoughtful. “Is that so?”

“Yeah,” was Lovino’s only reply, and he watched the clouds move near the moon. He was still thinking of that phone call, of those strange things Feli told him. Maybe he could ask Antonio now? “U-um, hey.” As if he needed to catch Antonio’s attention, he was already staring at him anyway.

“Yes?”

Lovino gulped. “We’re f-friends, right?” _Crap, that probably sounded so dumb._

Of course, of the many maddening reactions, Antonio chose to laugh. And he sounded so amused, Lovino was briefly tempted to slap him in the shoulder. But that would mean getting closer. And touching him.

When his laugh had died down, his eyes were still shining and he grinned at Lovino. “Something like that, I think.”

 _Damn it, why did he have to say something stupid_ , Lovino thought. Wasn’t it cold just a moment ago? His palms were sweating now. “W-well, I was wondering… that phone call you got the other day. Did something happen?”

Antonio’s smile wavered. “No, not really,” he said, and brushed some of his curls away. “It was just my parents.”

“Oh.” Lovino waited for any elaboration, but it was still silent. “Are they okay?”

Now, Antonio shifted his hands to his jean pockets and flexed them in there. “Yeah, they’re fine. They just…” Antonio’s voice trailed off and he checked Lovino’s expression. Suddenly, he chuckled and closed his eyes. “Ah, it doesn’t matter. It’s not really that important.”

“Why not?” Lovino asked, his blood boiling. This was getting annoying. Why couldn’t Antonio just spit it out already. He wanted to know. “Damn it, do you not trust me or something?”

Antonio looked at him, and this time it seemed as if he were measuring him up. His lips turned up slightly, secretly. “Why do you even want to know?”

Lovino stood up straighter. “Because **—** ” He stopped and tried to think of any excuse. “M-maybe I can help?” His cheeks burned in embarrassment. He actually just said that.

Antonio didn’t seem so fazed, but he did smile slightly, his eyes shining. “You can’t really,” he said simply and stared in the direction of the vineyards. It was quiet, and Lovino waited in baited breath. It looked like Antonio was rehearsing the words. Then he inhaled. “My parents are still upset with me about a few things.” His lips pressed together. “They cut me off a few years ago, so I decided to go to America with Francis and Gilbert. But I guess they always thought I would come back anyway.”

Lovino took a step closer without realizing. “S-so your parents are pretty wealthy?”

“Yeah,” Antonio sighed. He didn’t seem happy about it. “Very wealthy.”

“Oh. What do they do?”

“They’re in politics,” Antonio replied smoothly. “My father’s one of the deputy prime ministers. And my mother’s a _condesa_. She holds a lot of parties and charities.”

“Really?” Lovino gawked, more surprised than impressed. “Well, that’s kind of cool.”

Antonio laughed once. “Sometimes. We had a lot of animals which was nice. A lot of horses,” he said and he seemed momentarily happy. “But they also had a lot of expectations, and I didn’t really do a good job of living up to them.”

“Did they want you to go into politics?” Lovino asked, his voice skeptical. He couldn’t see Antonio doing that at all. It seemed almost wrong.

“ _Si_ , they did,” he said. “They at least hoped I would be someone… else. Smarter, calmer, more serious, more normal.”

“Normal?”

Antonio fidgeted and he laughed nervously. “Yeah, they were kind of upset to find out I was, um, bisexual. I think that might’ve been the last straw, because after that they kicked me out and they cut me off not too long after.”

“Oh, that’s…” Lovino looked away, he felt awful. Even if he was gay – _which he’s not_ – he knew his parents wouldn’t care anyway. They’d be just as fucking interfering, just as happy, just as stupid. But they wouldn’t kick him out. That’s just—“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” he laughed quietly some more. It was fake. “I was sad at first, but Francis and Gilbert picked me up and they let me stay at their places. Then they talked about going to California, and since my parents still wouldn’t talk to me I thought I might as well go away.” He glanced at the floor and at Lovino. “And then I found out how beautiful it was, and I was happy!”

Lovino’s cheeks warmed at the last comment, despite the topic of conversation. “B-but now they want you to go back?”

Antonio’s smile faltered again. “Well, they’re wondering if I’ve ‘grown up’ any, I guess. And apparently my sister Isabel left home to marry some Brazilian, so they don’t have her anymore either.” He crossed his arms protectively. “And she was their favorite so they’re pretty upset about that. They thought she would go into politics at least.”

 _How could you not be their favorite?_ Lovino thought, and stared at him. _How could anyone not like you? Hell, even I… kind of, sort of… l-like you._

“Y-you’re not going back though, are you?” Lovino asked warily. He didn’t want to imagine Antonio being gone forever.

Antonio met his eyes again, his green eyes assured and certain again. “No, I don’t think I will.”

Lovino breathed a sigh of relief.

“Besides, I’d miss you if I left.”

His heart skipped a beat. Against all better judgment, Lovino looked up, and he realized Antonio was much closer than before. When did he move?

Suddenly, Antonio’s hand was on his and he was holding it lightly. Lovino’s skin buzzed, and it scared him how thrilling this felt. Holding hands never felt like this before. His lashes fluttered when he noticed Antonio was smiling confidently again.

“For a long time I thought I could change myself to make my parents happy. Because I wanted them to be happy,” he said, and his thumb grazed over the top of Lovino’s skin lightly. “But I’m not really good at being anyone but myself,” he stopped, his eyes eyes sparkled green, green, green. “And I don’t really want to be anymore.”

Lovino could only breathe as slowly as he could. Even curse words eluded his brain, he didn’t know if he could talk at all. Everything was short-circuiting. Antonio was too close. His words were too goddamn dramatic. His eyes were too alluring. All Lovino wanted to do was lean a little bit closer, he wanted to try something he probably shouldn’t. His body wanted to, his heart was telling him to, and his brain was too fried to say no.

If he just leaned a little bit closer he—

“Lovi!~” Feliciano’s voice echoed through the bedroom into the air of the balcony.

Then sense kicked in.

“ _Holy shit_ ,” Lovino muttered under his breath and he shoved Antonio to the nearest wall away from the view of the glass balcony doors. He heard Antonio cough from the impact and he mumbled something quick to tell him to shut the hell up. “Feli? I’ll be there in just a second. Just wait for me downstairs.”

“Ve~ why?”

“Because I fucking said so,” Lovino yelled, and turned away from Antonio’s bemused face to glare in the direction of the door.

There was a small pause. “Oh, I get it. You’re busy watching the vineyards for Ton—”

Lovino’s eyes flashed to Antonio’s in horror before he remembered to interrupt. “Shut the fuck up! You don’t know what you’re talking about. Just leave before I throw you off the balcony!”

Feliciano giggled, accustomed to the meaningless threats. “Ve~ all right then. I’ll see you soon!” The door slammed, and Lovino waited until the footsteps died away.

Then he dared to look at Antonio again and jumped when he realized Antonio was trying not to laugh. “O-oh shut up! He doesn’t know what he’s talking about!” Lovino shouted and took several steps away so he was on the other side of the small balcony. He glared at Antonio when he started laughing out loud. “God damn it, I’m serious! I’ll throw you off of this balcony too if you don’t stop laughing, bastard!”

But Antonio didn’t stop, and Lovino decided he’d had enough of this embarrassment, and started stomping back into his bedroom. Then he felt a grip on his forearm and he was twisted around. Antonio held him as he looked at him with dancing, mischievous eyes; mirth still lingering on his lips.

Lovino held up his fist in warning, and Antonio cracked a broad grin. “I’m not laughing! See, Lovi? I stopped,” he said, and slowly, Lovino lowered his fist. Antonio’s fingers held Lovino’s arm carefully, reverently.

Lovino felt as though he’d had about enough of this. His emotions were too frayed. So his eyes tilted downwards and he muttered, “Whatever.”

Antonio’s grip loosened. “Do you want me to leave?”

Lovino’s eyes stung, he didn’t dare look up, and nodded a silently reply.

Slowly, Antonio’s hand slid away, and Lovino instinctively touched the skin, like he was feeling a burn.

He thought that might’ve been the end of it, that this torture was finally over; but then…

Something grazed his cheek. Antonio’s lips. It was a soft, delicate kiss, but it made Lovino’s breath catch. His touch lingered for too long, yet not long enough. Lovino didn’t want it, but suddenly it was something he needed.

Then Antonio pulled away, and Lovino saw his smile.

“ _Buenas noches_ , Lovi,” he said quietly, and he turned towards the edge of the balcony.

As Antonio climbed over the railing, and down to the vine, out of view, but not unheard, Lovino stayed just as he was. He waited until Antonio was at the bottom, safe and sound, before he sank to the floor.

They were just words. They were just meaningless touches.

It was just a kiss on the cheek.

But then why was his heart telling him something different?

 ********  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *"The Lovers" by Jalalud'din Rumi
> 
> *Translation #1: Hello mom, how are you?
> 
> *Translation #2: I'm sorry, I don't mean to worry you. It's just that - yes, I understand. I'm sorry. But I haven't changed my mind.
> 
> *Deputy prime minister - like a vice president to the prime minister
> 
> *Condesa - countess
> 
> *Isabel - female!Portugal, Antonio's sister
> 
> Thank you so much for reading. You have no idea how much I appreciate all of your favorites/follows/feedback/general encouragement and con-crit. I love all of it. *hugs* I'll try my best to get the next chapter out faster. I will darn it!
> 
> See you soon :)


	7. Macabeo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Antonio has an announcement to make, Lovino's moody, Feli's sick, and Sunday brunch changes everything.

_Ring!_

_Ring!_

_Ring!_

"... _Bonjour_?" A sleepy, annoyed voice echoed through the phone.

Antonio didn't care, and at once broke out in a grin. "Ah, Francis! Is that you?"

Of course it was. That's who he dialed. _"Mon dieu, Toni. What are you doing calling me at six in the morning?"_

"That's not that early!" Antonio laughed and resumed his walk through the vineyard. He hadn't actually slept all, but for once it was a good thing.

 _"Well, it is for someone like me,"_ Francis muttered with a sigh.

"Okay, well listen Francis. I want to run something by you and Gilbert. Can I stop by this afternoon?"

 _"Well, isn't that mysterious. Don't I get a clue?"_ He sounded more awake now.

Antonio chuckled and twirled a leaf between his fingers. "Nope! It'll be a surprise."

_"I'm worried now."_

"Haha, don't be. I'll stop by around three! See you then!"

_"Toni, don't just hang up so quickly, I don't even—"_

Antonio cut the call, still with a ridiculous smile. He felt giddy with happiness, his heart felt full: this was the best he felt in so long. Better than the spring. Now he knew for certain he'd never been in love before, because never in his life had he felt as spectacular as this.

All his mind could do was repeat the same thought.

_I'm in love with Lovino. I'm in love with Lovino. I'm in love…_

And at the same time, all his heart could do was beat with a similar question.

_I'm in love with Lovino, but… how does Lovino feel about me?_

 

~/~

 

Francis was tapping his foot impatiently as he nursed his glass of champagne. Jeanne was busy in the kitchen, fussing over some homemade hors d'oeuvres she wanted to make—though if the smoke leaking into the dining room was any indicator, it probably wasn't going very well. However, Francis could hardly mind the smoke when he noticed Gilbert blatantly staring, perhaps gawking would be more appropriate, at Jeanne's scars.

Like, _merde_ , he's seen them before. But each time it's the same thing. It annoyed Francis to no end.

"Gil," he hissed, trying not to grab the attention of Jeanne too.

"Yeah?" Gilbert responded without moving a muscle.

Francis frowned. "You're staring. Stop it. _Now_."

At that, Gilbert seemed to realize what he was doing, again, and slowly, almost reluctantly, faced Francis again. He smiled awkwardly. "Uh, sorry Francis. I just **—** I don't know, I'm always so curious about it. It's kind of hard not to notice."

"You've seen her before. It's nothing new," Francis said harshly, and took a long sip of his champagne. First, his beauty sleep was interrupted, and now this. _Mon dieu_ , what a bad omen for the day. He could only imagine the news Antonio wanted to share.

Gilbert didn't reply, and simply shrugged his shoulders with another apologetic smile. He returned to gazing out the window in wait of Antonio's dusty green bicycle rolling into the driveway.

Francis sighed, and finished his champagne. He knew Gilbert didn't mean any harm by it, but somehow it made him nervous that Jeanne might take it the wrong way, which of course, she wouldn't. If there was anyone with a thick skin and disregard for society's aesthetical expectations, it was her. She was French, but she was also her own person. She wore a chic outfit of all black pants and silk, green scarf and the next day she was in overalls and a t-shirt mucking out the horse stall. It was unnerving, but also pleasantly charming. (Francis wouldn't go near her until after she took a shower though, because she'd try to chase him with dirt and debris on her hands just to make him scream.)

He chuckled to himself until he smelled smoke, and at that point he began to take notice of Jeanne's cooking endeavors. With a screech, Francis slid his chair out from under the table and called, " _Mon chère_? Is everything alright in there?"

There was some careless laughter. _She's always so calm,_ Francis thought. _Which is not always a good thing,_ he added.

"Everything's fine!" She replied with a few coughs. She was still laughing. "I'm just… letting them air out for a little while."

Gilbert snickered, "I'll start opening the windows." As he was unlatching the glass panes he caught sight of someone moving outside. "Oh, hey Toni!" Gilbert yelled, and quickly retreated back inside. "He's here."

"Well, obviously," Francis rolled his eyes and leaned over to take a peak.

Gilbert pushed him back with a hand on his shoulder, "Wait. Stop. We need to act like everything's normal."

"Huh? What are you talking about? What isn't normal?" Francis asked, and suddenly Jeanne was pulling up a chair at their table, her apron still on, but also decidedly messy.

"I think I know what Antonio's going to say, and we have to act like everything's fine so he won't be scared away."

" _Mon ami_ , you're scaring me. What could someone Toni say that would make him so scared of us?"

"Perhaps he wants to tell us he's moving away," Jeanne suggested with a calm smile.

"Move away to where?"

"Spain!" Gilbert yelled with a triumphant smile.

"Toni wouldn't move back to Spain," Francis replied, though his voice wavered with insecurity. _Would he?_

"How about France?" Jeanne pointed out.

"Toni doesn't have the money for that," Francis snapped, though Jeanne seemed entirely unaffected and just giggled.

They all heard footsteps, and Jeanne was the first to catch Antonio's bright, happy figure walking fast into the dining room.

"Ah, Toni," she said, and stood up to embrace him in a hug. He eagerly accepted the affection, and she continued, "You look so good! And in an even better mood than usual."

Antonio laughed readily, like the happy Antonio Gilbert and Francis were so accustomed to. He hadn't been like this in a long while. It made Francis suspicious.

" _Si_ , I'm pretty happy," he replied and gave her a wink. "And I can't wait to tell all of you the good news." He turned to Francis and Gilbert eagerly.

"Here it comes," Gilbert whispered across the table.

Francis glared at him and paid attention to Antonio again, completely on guard. "Go ahead, Toni. We're listening."

It didn't escape Francis's sharp eye the slight reddish tinge that crept over Antonio's tan cheeks. It was rare to see Antonio blush.

"Well _amigos_ , as you probably already know," he began, and his hands twisted nervously together. "I was kind of down for a while. For a long while actually."

Dread pinched Francis's heart.

"But that's because someone was missing, and I didn't realize how much I missed him until he returned two weeks ago."

_No, Toni. Just don't._

Antonio smiled, but it was almost bashful, shy, _loving._

_That's not good._

"So I think," he paused with a breath. "I think I'm in love with Lovino. And I want to tell him."

At the same time, Francis's skin turned ice-cold, Jeanne clapped in excitement, and Gilbert let out a long _"Ooooh"_ of understanding. Francis was the only one who saw the danger.

"Wait, did you say Lovino?" Jeanne asked, curiosity lighting her grey eyes.

Antonio turned to her with a tender smile. " _Si_ , I did," he replied, and he smiled broader when he thought of something else. "But I also call him Lovi sometimes. He doesn't like that."

"Lovino, Lovino, Lovino," Jeanne repeated, a finger poised at her chin in thought. "I think I met someone like that in church a few months ago."

"Really?" Antonio asked, suddenly attentive.

" _Oui_ , I believe so. And he seemed like he was confused about something too," Jeanne trailed off and eyed Antonio calculatingly. "He seemed to be having some sort of love trouble."

At that, Antonio deflated, but still laughed a light, meaningless sound. "Ah, yeah. He was going out with Emma for a while. It was probably about that."

Jeanne nodded, but the small smile turning up her lips didn't escape Francis's notice.

Gilbert slapped a hand across Antonio's back. "That's awesome man! It's been forever since you've taken an interest in someone!"

Antonio scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. " _Si_ , that's true. And Lovino's different. I've never felt about anyone the way I feel about him."

Oh dear. " _Mon cher_ , are you not sure you're going maybe a bit too fast? What if he doesn't like you back?"

"What are you talking about?" Gilbert snapped, wrapping an arm around Antonio's shoulders. "If it's the same grumpy, red-faced kid I know, he'd be lucky to go out with Toni."

Jeanne watched Francis with an interested expression.

Francis's words had already done their job though, and Antonio's smile dropped until it was only a ghost. "No, Francis has a point. I can't really tell if Lovino feels the same way. I'm not sure if he even likes guys."

"Really? Can't you tell?" Gilbert asked.

Antonio pursed his lips. "Well, sometimes I think so. He acts a bit more clumsy around me than he does with women. But I can't tell if that's a good thing or a bad thing."

"You see? Perhaps you should just take a step back and wait a few months until you declare your undying love for him," Francis said placidly, easing a smooth smile on his face. He didn't want Antonio to get hurt. He couldn't bear it. He's already had to deal with rejection and contempt from his own family, if Lovino shuns him too **—** it's not as if Antonio has an undefeatable self-confidence. He can smile wide and laugh charmingly, but really, Antonio's just as insecure with himself as Lovino is. Perhaps he can forget when he's in love, because Antonio's so stupidly passionate when he is, but if Lovino let's his fear, his ego, get in the way of being together… that might crush Antonio for good.

"Don't bother listening to Francis, Toni. He thinks he knows everything about love because he's French," Gilbert said dismissively.

"Oh, and you think you know more?" Francis asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Damn right! At least I have the sense to realize that Toni should be taking chances! What if I never got drunk and made a move on Mattie?"

Francis crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair. "What a compelling argument."

Antonio, at this point, seemed torn between whom he should believe, and kept alternating glances between Gilbert and Francis. Then, when Antonio wasn't looking, Gilbert gave Francis a long look that said _Come on dumkompf, stop crushing your friend's heart like this. He's obviously head over heels!_

Francis pressed his lips together and stifled all of the things he wanted to say, to yell, to scream. Though naive, Gilbert does have a point. Francis doesn't have the right to squash his friend's dreams and tell him what to do.

But he wants to, because he knows he's right.

"Ah," Francis sang, forcing an easy smile across his features. "What am I saying? Gilbert's right. I'm French! A champion of _amour_. And you're from the country of passion. Of course you should go after him!"

Antonio's face lit up, his green eyes sparkling again, and his lips back in a warm smile. "You think so?"

Francis caught Gilbert's encouraging nod, and replied, " _Oui_ , of course!" He paused in thought as he tried to find the right words for a warning. "But perhaps, if I may say, you should at least wait until you're somewhat sure of where he stands."

Gilbert glared at him, but Antonio appeared to be considering the words carefully.

" _Si_ , you're probably right. I think he might, kind of like me," Antonio admitted with a light laugh, almost reluctant to believe. "But I don't know if he means it in the same way."

Some part of Francis relaxed, and he felt a bit more assured hearing that. It was nice to know that at least Antonio wasn't diving into this blind. Perhaps he had some sense in love after all.

"Oh, Toni, how about you check on Rosalita? It's been a while since you've seen her," Jeanne suggested easily.

Antonio blinked, as if just remembering the importance. " _Ay_ , you're right! I should go check on her," he started hurrying towards the back door. "Thanks for the help guys!"

"Hold up, will 'ya? I'll go with you!" Gilbert called, and followed him to the door. "I'll help you start planning how to win this guy over. I'll tell you all of my secrets."

Before Francis could get his voice in to protest, Antonio had already exclaimed a gleeful _"gracias"_ and the door closed behind them. It was quiet, and Francis glanced at their trotting figures through the window wistully, worriedly. Gilbert didn't understand the entire situation and he didn't know Lovino as well as Francis did. Francis had regular luncheons with Feli where all they did was exchange gossip. He knew what Lovino was like: how religious, how afraid he was. And although he could empathize – okay, well not really. Francis was never _that_ religious. It'd never been an obstacle for him to overcome. But he did understand fear and indecisiveness. He'd never been brave; it's not in his personality. So he felt for Lovino, but at the same time, he didn't want him anywhere near Antonio until he matured enough to figure out what he wanted.

"So," Jeanne's voice broke the silence, and she took Gilbert's seat. She watched Francis attentively. "What was that all about?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"Please, Francis, you're pouting," she commented with a small smile. "It's obvious you don't like Antonio's idea. Why not?"

Francis stared down at the table. "I don't trust Lovino. He's very… _religious_."

"Oh, so you don't trust religious people now?" Jeanne challenged teasingly.

"Okay, well," Francis laughed, trying to backtrack. "He's not like you. Lovino's strict and serious. He wants approval, not…" He trailed off, trying to find the right word. "Love."

"Really?" Jeanne taunted, her eyebrows raised. When Francis nodded she simply turned to the side. "He wasn't like that when I talked to him. He seemed lost. And scared. But is love so different for anyone else really?"

Francis groaned and covered his eyes with his hand. "Jeanne, stop it. You're sounding like a philosopher again. It's making me feel so human!"

Jeanne giggled. "Well, you should know this better than most. You were pretty lost too."

"Ah, no. I was lost before I met you, not after I fell in love," Francis pointed out firmly.

"I don't think Lovino's so different really," Jeanne stated and folded her arms over the table. "It seemed like when I met him, he was afraid to love Antonio, but I don't think he understood whether or not he loved him truly." She watched Francis's expression as she waited for it to sink in. "I think, once he realizes he's in love with Antonio, and Antonio loves him back, he won't be afraid anymore. Or at least not afraid enough to begin a relationship."

Another silence. Francis looked out the window as Jeanne looked at him.

Antonio's a lover. Gilbert's an optimist. And Jeanne's an idealist. But perhaps, in the end, Francis is a cynic for thinking this way. So he'll try:

"I guess we'll see."

 

~/~

 

Antonio returned to the Tesoro vineyards and it was sunset. He hadn't planned on staying for so long, but just in case, he did warn Berwald and Kiku to take over some of his jobs.

His bike rolled down the hill, and as he passed the main house, he caught sight of someone walking near the tomato garden. At the flash of reddish-brown, glinting hair, Antonio smiled. And quickly, he turned his bike to stroll down the driveway.

Lovino heard the gravel skidding, and he whipped around to stare. He was carrying a bowl under one arm, and as soon as he met eyes with Antonio, he turned back around.

Antonio saw his ears tinge red, but he pretended not to notice. " _Hola_ Lovi!" he called as he jumped off his bicycle. He set the kickstand and walked over, his heart ecstatic.

Lovino remained facing away, his hands fastidiously at work with plucking plump, red tomatoes from the plants. "Hey, bastard."

This was the first time Antonio had seen him since the balcony, but that seemed so long ago, it almost felt like a dream. They'd been so close, Lovino was so near and so golden, Antonio felt as though he might've loved him back. Nothing seemed impossible then. But strangely, daylight changed everything. It made things warmer, you see too much. And at night it's cool and clear like glass, you see just enough.

"How've you been doing?" Antonio asked. He hoped Lovino would turn to him.

He didn't.

"Fine."

"Oh," Antonio laughed lightly. "That's good." He clasped his hands together behind his back and tried desperately to think of what to say. Ah, what was it that Gilbert said earlier?

_"Alright, now listen closely. The way to a man's heart is through charisma, confidence and charm. Just be your best self. That's exactly how I won over Mattie."_

"Um, so are you picking the tomatoes for something? Are you going to cook again?" Antonio asked, smiling wide.

Lovino faced him, his eyes bright and his cheeks blushing a dark, enticing red.

_"And if they get easily embarrassed around you, you can be sure it's because they have a crush on you. I think my awesomeness kind of overwhelmed him at times and he was pretty bashful."_

"W-well, I thought I might cook something. Feli isn't feeling too well, so I thought I might make some simple pasta with marinara," he said simply, and tightened his grip on the bowl.

"Oh, is he okay?" Antonio asked, suddenly worried.

Lovino's eyes darted away, his expression frustrated. "Yeah, yeah, he's fine. I'm pretty sure he brought this on himself. He's been doodling too much in that journal of his, and hardly sleeps, and now he goes running," Lovino paused to sigh disapprovingly. "The idiot's just overdoing it."

Antonio watched Lovino's face: his voice sounded annoyed, but by the nervous creases in his forehead and firm press of his lips, it looked like he was secretly very worried. Antonio grinned. "That's so cute!~"

Lovino looked up a bit startled, and immediately glared. "What is?!"

"How you're so worried for your brother. It's so sweet!"

"Damn it, I am not worried about him! I told you, it's all his fault. He's too damn creative for his own good," Lovino exclaimed, and after he caught Antonio still laughing he huffed, "Oh, whatever. I'm going back inside." And at once turned on his heel.

That snapped Antonio from his momentary glee, and in a few long strides, he was in front of Lovino. "Wait, I, um…" Antonio trailed off, feeling a bit lost in deciphering Lovino's eyes. Should he be honest, or tell a white lie? Would it even be a lie?

_"Also, sometimes paying a little attention to someone else will get their attention. If they get jealous, it's a pretty good hint they're into you. It didn't work on Mattie, but in most cases that's a sure thing."_

"Do you mind if I stop by and say hi to Feli? To see how he's doing?" Antonio asked, his smile pleasant. He watched Lovino's expression intently.

At once, it was as if a light went out. Clouds moved over the sun. His lips didn't bend upward or downward, and his eyes didn't wander, but something… sad took over. "Oh," he mumbled, and fixed his hair. "Yeah, whatever. He's inside if you want to see him."

Antonio kept smiling. "All right!"

Now, Lovino's eyes shifted. He looked away, disappointed. But still, he didn't say anything. Was it strange that he was so quiet? Did that mean he was jealous, or no?

"Just remember to take your muddy shoes off," Lovino ordered, and continued walking past Antonio. He opened the door with one hand and balanced the bowl with the other set against his hip, and looked over his shoulder. "Hurry up! I don't have all day!" Lovino shouted, and Antonio finished throwing his left shoe on the doorstep, ready to enter. Lovino wasn't about to greet him graciously. "About time," he mumbled and they both went in.

It wasn't any different than last time. It was still elegant, ornate, shiny, very, very clean, and the whole thing made Antonio just as uncomfortable as last time. It reminded him a bit of his parents' home: it was so perfect, it felt like a museum. And with Antonio being the way he was, he could hardly stand to be in a place he couldn't live in. The indoors always felt so stifling.

But, all the same, it wasn't his parents' home. It wasn't that perfect. And the kitchen was what made Antonio feel at ease. Obviously, someone has been cooking some gourmet meals. The perfume was warm, the sink was filled with pots and dishes, and cutting boards and cooking tools were scattered all around.

Lovino seemed to remember this, and awkwardly, he said, "Um, sorry about the mess. Tino's on break right now, so it's just been me cooking." He set the bowl down and started rinsing the tomatoes under the sink. "And Feli usually cleans, but he hasn't been feeling really up to it."

"Is he that sick?" Antonio asked curiously, and without thinking, joined Lovino at the sink, and started dowsing the dirty pots in dish-soap.

Lovino noticed, and didn't say anything, but Antonio was sure he saw him flinch and blush.

_"If someone has a crush on you, it's pretty common for them to want to stay as far away as possible. They're attracted to your awesomeness, so of course they're afraid to get near it! Kesesese!~"_

Well, that comment by Gilbert may be a bit of an overreach.

"Ve~ Toni! What are you doing here?" Feliciano called, his voice distinctly happy, but also a bit weak.

Antonio dropped the pot and immediately turned around. "Feli!" He hurried over to give Feliciano a quick hug. Feliciano seemed a bit confused after he pulled away. "I was in the garden with Lovi, and I thought I might check in on how you're doing? He said you were sick."

At that, Feli giggled. "Oh, I'm not that sick! Lovi just worries too much. He's so cute!~"

"Damn it, I am not! Who said I was even worried about you?" Lovino snapped, and gave one of his tomatoes a hard chop.

Feliciano winked at Antonio and gave a small, secret smile. "He really is sweet," Feli whispered near Antonio's ear.

"I can hear you whispering!" Lovino shouted, and twisted around to glare in their direction. But he caught Feliciano leaning so close to Antonio, and in the same instant, he turned back around. His ears were bright red. "You guys are idiots," he muttered, and resumed chopping.

Antonio's heart dropped. Lovino sounded almost… mad. Perhaps this strategy wasn't the best. Whether jealousy works or not, Antonio can't bare, not even for a minute, that Lovino would hate him. He'd worry that it would last forever, and that whatever small chance he had would fly away.

He caught Feliciano's curious, watchful eyes and changed geers. "Um, so how are you feeling lately?" Antonio asked.

Feliciano tilted his head, and darted his eyes from Lovino to Antonio rapidly. "I'm fine," he smiled, but couldn't hold it long before he broke into a harsh, coughing fit.

"Fine, he says," Lovino mumbled.

"Do you think you need to see a doctor?" Antonio asked and laid a hand on Feliciano's shoulder worriedly.

But Feli transitioned from a cough to a laugh and smiled at him. "Ve~ no, I'm not that sick! It's just a cough. I'm sure it'll go away soon."

They both heard a scoff from Lovino's direction, and Feliciano winked again at Antonio.

Perhaps this was his chance.

"Hey Lovi," he began, and was glad that for once, they weren't eye to eye. That would make this more intimidating. "Would you like me to help you make dinner? I'm not as good as a cook of you, but I can help!"

Lovino stopped chopping. Antonio watched his back for answers. The muscles were tense, strained; he gripped the knife tightly.

Then finally, Antonio blinked, and time moved again. Lovino grabbed another tomato, rinsed it, and poised his knife over it.

"No thanks, bastard. I don't need your help," he said.

_"If he has a crush on you, he might be afraid to get close to you on his own. But if you ask him, then he'll be be too ecstatic to decline."_

"Oh," Antonio replied, and wringed his wrists. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Lovino answered, not missing a beat.

Through the window the sun was setting; the last rays of golden and vermillion light framed Lovino, but the rest of the room was dark. It felt cold without the sun.

Antonio did the only thing he could do. He forced his lips up and dug deep to find a laugh. "Ah, well, all right Lovi. I understand," he said easily. "I'll go then."

He couldn't find the courage to add I'll see you later.

"Bye," Lovino muttered, and slammed his knife hard against the board.

He wasn't looking at him, but Antonio smiled anyway. "I hope you feel better, Feli," he said. Feliciano gave him a lost look, but Antonio kept walking. He wanted to run. He wanted to escape. Suddenly the house felt too small, the rules too large; he couldn't imagine all of the things his parents would have to say.

So he took a few fast steps to get to the door, grasped the doorknob, and somewhere behind him he heard a voice. Feli's.

Antonio turned around, Feliciano was skipping up behind him, but he couldn't do it. He didn't have the energy to talk anymore, to be happy, to laugh, _to lie_. So he mustered all of his strength, turned around, looked Feli in the eye, smiled, and ran out the door.

 

~/~

 

"Lovi."

Lovino sighed. "Yeah," he replied, not bothering to move aside the covers.

There was a creak, and then footsteps. "Hey Lovi—" Feliciano stopped to cough, loudly and violently.

Lovino groaned, and at once pulled back the covers. He leaned over his night stand and turned on the light. "Damn it, Feli. Just go see a doctor already. You're coughing like a maniac."

He was also pale, and his eyes were glassy, and Lovino was sure he had a fever, but he decided to keep his mouth shut.

"I don't like going to the doctor," Feliciano mumbled, suddenly meak. After a moment, he looked up excited, but Lovino was quick to interrupt.

"Don't you dare change the subject! You know what? Fuck it. I'm done letting you mope around the house. Tomorrow, I'm taking you to the doctor. I don't care what you say."

Feliciano blinked, his face blank. Then out of the blue his giggled, and gave him a happy smile. "Ve~ all right, Lovi! Whatever you say!"

Lovino frowned. "I mean it, damn it! Don't think I'll let you sleep through this. I'm going to call Elizaveta, bribe the shit out of her, and get you an appointment. I'm not waiting anymore."

"Okay!~"

"So you'll do it?"

"Sure!~"

"No complaints?"

"Yep!~"

Lovino gave him an even stare. "Well, good," he said, and reached out to turn the lamp off.

"But you have to do something for me in exchange!" Feliciano exclaimed.

"Fuck," Lovino cursed in the darkness, and quickly turned the light back on. "What do you mean I have to do something for you? I'm taking you to the doctor out of the goodness of my heart, damn it!"

" _Si_ , I know. But you see," Feliciano's smile grew suspiciously, and he looked off to the side. "I promised Francis that I was coming for brunch on Sunday, and he already has all of the meals and horses planned for me already." He paused, and let that sink in. "So… I was hoping, since I'm too sick, that you could maybe take my spot?"

"No," Lovino replied automatically.

" _Cosa_? Why not?!"

"Because I fucking said so," Lovino snapped, his voice even. "And besides, you might not even be that sick. Maybe Elizaveta will say you're a hypochondriac."

"I am not!"

Lovino rolled his eyes and looked to the side. He felt a blush warm on his cheeks, and it made him angry. He shouldn't feel this way thinking about the _possibility_ of running into the Spanish bastard again. He might not even be there! A-and, it shouldn't matter anyway. Because he doesn't care, and Antonio's a guy, and… whatever.

Feliciano already knew what was on his brother's mind and tried to work a few steps ahead. "Well, if Eliza says I'm too sick, can you go for me? You don't have to stay the whole time, just stay for brunch at least. But if I'm fine **—** well, then I'll go!" Feliciano smiled, trying to reassure his brother. "Is that okay?"

Lovino was glaring at the floor, his flush spreading to his ears and around his neck. He felt his heartbeat pick up. He'd been avoiding Antonio again, and that had been working out fine. But to see him again, after he snapped at him a few days ago? How was he supposed to act?

Lovino clenched his fists and tried to summon some courage. "F-fine."

Feliciano brightened. "Really?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, great! _Grazie fratello_! I'm sure Francis will be happy to see you again!"

"Whatever," Lovino muttered, and slowly his fingers grazed over his cheeks again.

"And I'm sure Antonio will be happy to see you too," Feliciano added, his voice mischievous.

Lovino's hands dropped to fists and he glared. "Shut up!" he yelled, and brought his knees to his chest. "I don't care what he thinks."

Feliciano watched him and hummed thoughtfully.

Lovino wasn't amused. "I swear to God, if you don't get out of my room right now, I'm going to convince Eliza to give you a bucket of shots."

Despite how scary the threat sounded, Feli laughed, and obediently, he left the room.

Lovino hugged his knees, and looked out the window. He touched his cheek again, and since no one was watching, he smiled.

~/~

Despite what he said, Feliciano wasn't actually okay with going to the doctor. He liked Elizaveta, but she was still _a doctor_ , and she still worked at _a hospital_ , and hospitals still, even after all of these years, sent chills down his spine.

But he decided it was a sacrifice he had to make. After what happened in the kitchen, Feli decided it was up to him to push Lovino back towards Antonio, and it was his duty as a brother to make him happy. He may still deny it, but it was becoming apparent to Feliciano that even Lovino knew he was happier around Antonio. He was just so scared.

Like Feli was now.

Lovino and Tino dropped him off at the office and said they were going to the store to buy some things and would be back later to pick him up. So he was alone. In the waiting room. Of a hospital. Surrounded by dated housekeeping magazines, bland, blue walls, and a unmistakable sterile smell. It made his palms sweat.

Soon, a woman propped open the door and called, "Feliciano Vargas?"

"Yes!" Feliciano said, and stood to attention.

The lady – a very curvy, sweet-looking lady – smiled a bit in surprise, but replied with a kind voice. "Oh, aren't you enthusiastic? Just follow me and I'll show you to a room."

Feliciano laughed a bit in embarrassment and followed her inside. It wasn't a checkup, so they didn't stop for the preliminaries, and once they were inside a clean, eerie looking cube, he sat down on the paper covered lounge chair. It crinkled, and that made him more anxious.

"So," she said and looked down at her clipboard. "You're here because you've been feeling sick, is that right?"

Feliciano stopped looking at the flyers of different shots. "Um, yeah. It's mainly a cough that I have."

"All right, well, let me take your vitals real quick," she said, and pulled out a thermometer from a cupboard. "Open your mouth."

Feliciano did so, and obediently held the thermometer under his tongue. She looked at her phone absentmindedly, and Feli glanced at her nametag to calm him down. Katyusha.

_Beep!_

She looked up, and delicately removed the thermometer. "Oh, dear."

"What?" Feliciano asked, his heartbeat racing again.

She turned the thermometer around to show him. "You have a fever of 102 degrees. You're definitely sick then," she declared, and wrote something down on the clipboard. "Alright, let me take check your blood pressure, and that'll be it."

Katyusha whipped out the device, and wrapped the pads around Feliciano's arm with a secure velcro crunch; then she pumped, and let rest, pumped and let rest, and so on. The entire time, Felciano was jumping from prayer to prayer, suddenly worried that perhaps he was too much of a lazy catholic.

"Are you nervous?" She asked gently, and Feliciano realized she had removed the arm cuff.

"Oh, um, kind of," he laughed softly.

"Don't be. Dr. Edelstein is a great doctor," she reassured him with a pretty smile. "I'll be back after your check-up. Don't worry, she'll be here soon." And the door closed behind her.

Feliciano jumped off the lounge chair and started pacing. Everything was going to be fine. Lovino said so. Tino said so. There was nothing wrong with him. He was sure of it. But dio, did he hate hospitals. Feli hated going to hospitals since his parents died. It was a different situation; they were in a car accident and were placed in the emergency room, but still… there was something ominous about being here, that made Feliciano feel like he was inches away from death. It terrified him.

And the colorful posters of diseases and viruses spamming the walls of the room weren't helping at all. Feliciano suddenly wondered if it wasn't too late to skip out and dash out the building. He could tell Lovi that he was diagnosed with a flue and everything would be better soon. Yeah. That could work.

With his mind made up, Lovino was already at the door, his hand on the door knob. But as he turned it one way, a stronger force turned it the other, and the door pushed open. Feliciano stumbled back.

"Oh, excuse me. I didn't know there was someone near the door," a deep, masculine voice said. It was even and cool, and didn't seem particularly worried.

Feliciano shuffled around the door, just as the other opened it wider.

It was a doctor. A male doctor. Or at least that's what it seemed? He was dressed in a sharp suit: crisp shirt, neat tie, ironed pants, shined shoes. His blond hair was parted and combed, it even looked like he used product to keep it stiff and shiny: not one hair out of place. He wasn't wearing a lab coat, but he had a name-tag. Somewhere in Feliciano's periphery, he caught sight of it, but… he couldn't be bothered to check what it was, because he was too busy memorizing the blue of his eyes.

"Ah, Feli! It's nice to see you again!" Elizaveta said, suddenly materializing by the stranger's side.

Feliciano finally diverted his attention, and remembered to smile. "Ve~ hi Eliza! How are you?"

"I'm good! You know—just busy with work and all that," she replied with a dismissive wave of her hand.

Feli laughed, and slyly darted his eyes back to the blond. And it seemed he was staring right back at Feli, but at eye contact, he quickly glanced down, suddenly absorbed in his clipboard.

Feli looked down. His name was...Ludwig Bielschmidt. Did that sound familiar?

"Ah, right," Elizaveta said with a clap. "I don't know if you've met Ludwig. He's shadowing me this summer. He's a med student, and the younger brother of Gilbert. You remember him don't you?"

"Oh!" Feli exclaimed, very surprised. "You're Gilbert's brother?"

He flicked his eyes up from his clipboard and gave Feli a blank look. "Yes, I am."

Feliciano laughed. Even the way he talks is nothing like Gilbert. He's so serious! " _Ciao_! I'm Feli!" he announced and extended his hand. After a second, Ludwig met him for a handshake. "Nice to meet you!" Feli added happily.

Ludwig seemed a bit thrown, and his lips pressed together nervously. "Yes, well," he cleared his throat. "Nice to meet you too." He broke the handshake and resumed holding the clipboard securely.

"Well then, since we're all acquainted, how about we get started? Feli, you can go ahead and take a seat on the chair," Elizaveta instructed and she closed the door behind them.

Ludwig sat down on the stool near the table, and Elizaveta rolled her comfy office chair next to Feliciano.

"All right then, Feli, what seems to be the problem?" She asked.

Feliciano was staring at Ludwig again. _Why was he taking so many notes? Does he want to be a doctor? Oh, I'm sure he'd be a wonderful doctor. But he's so serious. I wonder if he ever smiles…_

"Feli?" she repeated, slowly following his gaze to Ludwig.

"Oh, right!" he exclaimed, and sat up straight. "I just have a pretty bad cough."

Ludwig frowned at the clipboard, and Elizaveta prompted, "Any fatigue?"

"Um, yes…" he admitted reluctantly. Then clarified, "But I've been doing a lot of sketching and a while ago I was running every day. I missed some sleep too."

Ludwig scribbled something down.

"Alright, so perhaps a bit of overexertion," she said and looked to Ludwig. He passed her the clipboard and she scanned the papers. "It seems like you have a rather high fever. Has this been going on long?"

Feli paused. Well, he refused to take his temperature, but really, he kind of knew he had a fever. "Maybe for a few days."

"Mhm," she nodded her head. "Let's see now… Do you have any trouble breathing? Any chest pain?"

He blinked. "Um, yes."

"So, when you inhale, your chest hurts?"

Feliciano tried inhaling, and unconsciously, he winced. "Yeah, it hurts a bit."

"Hm." Elizaveta tapped her chin, and looked to Ludwig. "What do you think?"

He glanced at Feliciano with unwavering eyes, and Feli could just see the list of calculations scrolling on his lips.

"It seems like bronchitis," he said, his voice still laden with wry seriousness. His eyebrows knit together and he asked, "Why are you smiling?"

"Huh?" Feliciano replied and finally sensed his giddy grin. "Oh, sorry. You were just so cute!"

Ludwig's eyes widened in the exact moment Elizaveta bent over laughing, and that sound only seemed to embarrass him further and a light blush dusted over his cheeks.

"Oh, sorry! Did that embarrass you?"

"No!" He exclaimed, and shifted his glare from Feliciano to Elizaveta and back again. He smoothed his hair and tried again. "But that's not an appropriate comment to say to your doctor."

"You're not my doctor!" Feliciano giggled.

"That's right, I am!" Elizaveta said, her eyes dancing.

" _Verdammt_ , it doesn't change the situation!" he insisted and slammed his fist against the countertop to emphasize his point.

Feliciano wanted to laugh again, but instead, he broke into a cough. Frustration appeared to drain away from Ludwig's expression, and Elizaveta moved to pat Feliciano's back.

"Aw, I'm sorry, Feli. Bronchitis can be pretty painful," she said. "But on the bright side, you don't have pneumonia, so it's not that bad!"

" _Pneumonia?!_ "

"I said it wasn't pneumonia," she clarified, and bit back some laughter. She held the clipboard up again. "Now then, I'm going to prescribe you some antibiotics, and see how that helps. You'll probably have to take it easy too, and make sure to get plenty of rest."

"All right," Feliciano sighed. He supposed this was the best outcome he could have hoped for. He wasn't dying and Lovino still had to go to brunch.

"You should also come back sometime to see how the antibiotics are treating you," she commented and flipped a few pages. "Maybe one week from now?"

Normally, the impending doom of having a doctor's appointment was enough to send Feliciano running for the hills. He would have said _No, a million times no. I'm fine! Completely fine! Ve!~ …_

But this time, the first thing he did was look to Ludwig's bland, calculative face, smile, and exclaim, "I can't wait!"

 

~/~

 

Lovino was pissed.

Where to even begin? First, it turns out, after a week of moping, coughing ( _damn, so much coughing_ ), and stupid tiredness, Feliciano has bronchitis. He had a fever of 102 degrees, and mucus stuck to his lungs. Was he a caring brother? It turns out no. He let Feliciano sit on this for a fucking week. Ugh, he should have known.

Second, when Lovino and Tino showed up at the clinic to pick him up, he was _skipping_ to the god damn car. When he told them he had bronchitis and they had to pick up his prescription, he _smiled_. When Lovino asked him why he was smiling, he _giggled_. _What the fuck was that about?_

Third, after all of that drama, Lovino was _still_ going to brunch at Francis's place. Alone. Without Feli. But among everyone else he doesn't want to see. Including, but not limited to, the much dreaded Antonio.

Why was it that even thinking his name sent darts into Lovino's heart? It hurt. Like guilt. But not the guilt he was accustomed to. This was different: not like a sin, like a lie. For some reason, he felt guiltier for pushing Antonio away than for cherishing that night on the balcony. He felt as though he saw something then. For once, he wasn't as naive. There wasn't definitely a flicker, a spark, a light in Antonio's eyes that night. He wasn't looking at Lovino like a friend or _Something like that_ (to quote his asinine words); he was looking at Lovino like he wanted something, like he was trying to figure something out. He was looking at Lovino the same way Lovino looked at him.

And if Lovino was being truthful, he did feel a bit bad for his cold shoulder the other day. It was just too soon to be so close after actually being so close a few nights before. Jesus, it was if they had a one-night stand, it felt so awkward.

Lovino's motorcycle skidded past the Jeanne d'Arc Vignoble sign, and he sighed. The air was flying by his skin, but he knew he was blushing; he had to stop thinking about this. He just had to go in, see Antonio, and… what? Talk to him? Ignore him? Tell him to stay away? Kiss hi—oh, god no. What? How? Why did that even cross his mind? Antonio can be _bi_ or whatever, but that doesn't mean it's okay for Lovino to be gay, right? Right?

He was so absorbed in his new train of thought he hadn't even noticed the speaker.

_"Bonjour, is someone there?"_

"Um, y-yeah. It's Lovino Vargas," he stuttered, and rubbed the sweat from his palms off on his pants before regripping the rubber of the handles.

_"Ah, yes. You can go on in. Monsieur Bonnefoy and Mademoiselle Romée are expecting you."_

The gate opened, and Lovino obediently started up his motorcycle to continue driving into the horseshoe.

 _Romée_? Who was Mademoiselle Romée? Did he know that name?

The same, or at the very least similar servants met him near the sidewalk, and as one took his motorcycle for valet parking, the other handed him a glass of champagne.

"Thanks," Lovino muttered and tossed it back before resuming his trek into the house. He needed all of the alcohol he could get to go through with this thing.

 

~/~

 

"So Lovino, what's changed since the last time I saw you?" Michelle asked with a smile. She reached out for another waffle and placed it on her plate.

Emma brought these waffles, and Emma was sitting a bit too close to Lovino for his liking. Between Emma's melancholic aura, Michelle's eating, Elizaveta's gossiping, and Roderich's general pissiness, Lovino felt very agitated. Francis met him at the door and told him to join the others outside, but Lovino didn't know that meant Francis would be fleeing from the scene indefinitely. How was he supposed to handle these idiots?

"Um, well," Lovino coughed and quickly took another sip of champagne. "Well, nothing much. I just got back from Europe."

"Oh really?" Michelle's eyes lit up. "That's interesting. Was it a fun trip?"

"Yeah, I guess," Lovino muttered, and tilted his gaze down at his plate.

"Have you talked to Antonio recently?" Emma asked, her tone sugary-sweet.

Lovino didn't know if it was baited or sincere, but either way, it made his skin flush in shame. He felt like she knew something he never told her. "U-um," he mumbled, and fidgeted with his napkin. "Not really. We've both been busy. And Feli's sick."

Emma's lashes fluttered in surprise. "Oh? He's not too sick I hope."

"He has bronchitis," Elizabeth replied cooly, her arm slung over the chair's wooden shoulder. "But don't worry, he has the best doctor in town!" She raised her glass and powered through the last gulps of champagne.

"You're as confident as ever I see," Emma laughed, and the two of them absorbed themselves in a new conversation.

Lovino was left alone with his blush and nervous sweat, and as he moved to pour another glass of champagne, he accidentally made eye contact with Michelle. She was radiant: all tan skin ( _like Antonio_ ), dark hair ( _like Antonio_ ), and bright smile ( _like Antonio_ ). It made him wonder…

"So how have the equestrian competitions been going?" he asked, his tone suave, and with all of his Italian charm.

Her brown eyes sparkled in appreciation of the question. "They've been going well!" she gushed. "Victoria's such a great horse. She's won over a dozen ribbons now."

"Is she here today?"

"Of course! I hardly go anywhere without her," she laughed.

Lovino offered a rare, cavalier smile and leaned over the table. "Do you want to go riding together? Maybe you can show me the ropes."

"Oh," Michelle paused in quick surprise. She was confused for a second, but then she shook her head and smiled. "Of course! Sounds like fun."

"Great," Lovino replied and took another sip. He felt Emma's gaze on the side of his face, but he didn't dare turn around. Whatever she thought she knew about him, he was going to prove her wrong. And Antonio wasn't going to mess this up.

 

~/~

 

Jeanne was absolutely certain. Ever since she was a little girl, she felt as though she had an uncanny sensitivity towards others. She understood Francis's confusion and hopelessness through his eyes, the wistful quirk to his smile, the echoes in his voice...So she knew, without any trace of doubt, that Lovino was talking about Antonio that day in church. Call it instinct, call it a hunch, regardless of what it was, Jeanne _knew_.

And she understood Francis's worry and his doubt. But he didn't see what she saw. And today, she was determined to prove it to him.

" _Mon chère_ , what are you thinking? You look like a cat in front of a mousehole."

Jeanne finished pinning her riding cap and found Francis's face in the corner of the mirror. She smiled.

"I'm going to win our bet," she said.

Francis raised an eyebrow questioningly, before the answer dawned on him. He held his head in his hand and sighed. "I don't know if I should be more worried for Antonio or Lovino."

Her lips twisted silently. "Both."

 

~/~

 

It wasn't too long before Francis came down to greet them, and just like old times, Michelle, Lovino and Francis were soon on their way down the dirt path towards the grand and imposing figure of the stable.

Lovino fidgeted with his hands nervously and looked around. Every few steps he checked side to side, over his shoulder, and forward for any sign of Antonio. He was fairly sure Antonio was working in the stables, but the possibility that he wasn't and was somewhere else unnerved him, so he kept his guard up.

What would he say when he saw him? Should he be polite? Or rude? Should he apologize for the other day? He felt bad, but…Emma's comment earlier still made his skin burn. _Would it be gay to be nice to Antonio? It's too confusing, damn it._

"Well, Lovino," Francis said, interrupting the drawn-out silence. "Antonio's horse is a bit too pregnant to ride now. Would you like to ride one of my horses?"

 _Shit, one of those tall things?_ "Um, sure."

"Aw, are you worried? I promise they won't bite," he purred with a smirk.

"Damn it, I'm not worried! Give me whatever horse you want, I don't care!" he shouted, and wished he had the sense to pack a rock or something to throw at the bastard whenever he said something stupid.

Francis chuckled, and even Michelle giggled at the comment. That just made Lovino more embarrassed, and as they approached the impending door of the stable, Lovino withdrew even further into himself.

"All right! Here we are! Home sweet home, no Michelle?" Francis said as he led the way down the familiar, soft-lit hall. It smelled of animals and hay and earth, and gave Lovino goosebumps. He remembered when Antonio held him here. When he fell on top of them and they were so close. Too close.

Then a familiar, dark-brown mare was led outside of a stall, the same mare as last time, and Michelle sped ahead calling, "Victoria!"

" _Mon dieu!_ Don't run like that, you'll scare the horses!" Francis yelled, but gave up with a shake of his head.

Lovino hardly paid attention. When he saw Antonio leading Victoria out by the reigns, he could only stare at him. Even if Lovino was looking away, he was still aware of where Antonio was, still paying attention to him from the corner of his eyes, still listening, still waiting…

He heard Antonio laugh, charmed by Michelle, like last time. It made Lovino's heart pang in jealousy, but at the same time, Antonio's laugh was like a Spanish melody.

As he and Francis approached, Lovino made sure to keep his eyes to the side, and his hands deep in his pockets.

There was a shuffle of hay, the talking stopped and Lovino knew.

"Lovi?" Antonio exclaimed hesitantly, almost like a question.

Reluctantly, Lovino looked up, he thought he was ready, but at the sight of those green eyes, he melted.

"I didn't know you were coming," Antonio continued, and took a step forward. "I thought Feli was the only one—"

"He's sick," Lovino said quickly, waves of heat traveling across his cheeks.

"Oh, that's right," Antonio replied lightly. He hummed for a moment. "It's nice to see you again."

This was why Lovino never made eye contact, when he did, he never found the strength to look away. He couldn't lie. "Y-yeah, um… you too," he mumbled awkwardly. He regretted the words as soon as they left his lips.

Antonio's grin widened, and a sparkle that wasn't there before twinkled in his eyes.

 _Damn that smile._ "Also, about the other day, I-I'm sorry I snapped at you," Lovino said. He felt like he was confessing.

That twinkle danced, and unfamiliar emotions waltzed around with it. "You don't need to apologize."

 _Then why did I feel so guilty about it?_ "Right," Lovino huffed. He darted his eyes back to the ground. "I'm riding one of Francis's horses."

"Oh, okay," Antonio replied, and was swiftly by Lovino's side, a skip in his step. "Just follow me!" He started walking down the aisle, and looked over his shoulder once to make sure Lovino was following him. He held the gaze longer and commented, "You look nice by the way."

Lovino's blush spread to his ears and he darted his eyes to the side. His fingers touched his cheek. "Thanks," he replied shortly. It didn't seem like a fair compliment, since he was wearing a simple shirt and riding pants. His hair was all right he supposed, but he felt too flustered to be attractive.

Not that he wants to be attractive to him.

Antonio chuckled about who knows what and paused in front of a stall. He opened it up and went inside as Lovino stood numbly by the wooden walls. There was some neighing and some Spanish whispers, and after a few minutes, Antonio was leading a white mare ( _was it Marie?_ ) out of the stall. Whatever her name was, she was just as tall as Lovino remembered.

"Alright then. This is Marie," Antonio introduced, and ran a calming hand down her nose. "You met her last time, but I promise she isn't as scary as she looks."

"Damn it, I wasn't scared!" Lovino snapped, and waved his fist to make a point.

Antonio laughed, and he winked mischievously. "Sure you weren't."

"I wasn't!"

"Okay!" Antonio singsonged and finished leading Marie out into the hall. He grabbed a saddle and slung it over her back. "Just wait a minute while I get her ready for you."

Lovino grumbled and leaned against the wood as he watched Antonio work. He was wearing torn jeans (again), and a button-down shirt he refused to actually button up (at least not decently). Without meaning to, Lovino caught himself tracing the planes of Antonio's arms and neck and wondered what he'd look like if he wasn't wearing a shirt at all. He only realized it when Antonio happened to make eye contact with him, and his face burned hundreds of degrees hotter. What was he thinking? Part of him was terrified Antonio might've known about the fantasy, because Lovino would have swore, by the way Antonio was moving and flexing his arms, _that he just knew._ The bastard.

When he was finished securing the saddle, he took a step back and gave Marie a few more pets.

"So are you riding with someone?" he asked, his voice strangely smooth.

This was what Lovino had been dreading. "Y-yeah, I'm going with Michelle."

Antonio stopped petting to glance at Lovino. "Oh, really?"

Lovino pressed his lips together and nodded.

There was silence. Then the crunch of hay broke it, and Antonio said, "I hope you have a good time."

Lovino met his eyes and savored that smile. It was Antonio's beautiful, selfless, loving smile – _the one he used when he lied._

"Thanks," Lovino coughed, and shuffled near the side of the horse to hurry on top. He nudged one shoe in, but before he could try to get up on his own, Antonio was by his side, and his large hands were holding his hips and easing him up. Lovino pretended he couldn't feel it.

Once he was settled, Antonio held Marie and asked him, "Do you feel okay?"

"Yep," Lovino answered automatically, eager to leave.

Antonio seemed to sense that, because as soon as Lovino held the reins in his hands, he took a step back and said, "Well, have fun then. Be safe, all right?"

Lovino held his breath. His heartbeat was too fast.

"Okay."

And he sped out of the stable.

As usual, he felt the pain of saying too much, yet not enough at all.

 

~/~

 

"So do you like horses?" Michelle asked conversationally.

Lovino glanced at Marie's gigantic, powerful figure. "I guess," he said reluctantly. "I don't hate them. They're just kind of big."

She giggled and patted Victoria's neck. "Aw, but that just makes them cuter!"

He pursed his lips before laughing lightly. "Says you."

She watched Lovino laugh admiringly, and they continued their canter down the vineyard aisles.

 

~/~

 

They wandered for a while. Or it felt like a while. A long while. And all the whole time, Lovino's mind kept drifting back to the stables, and wondering what Antonio was doing now.

As they traversed into another vineyard aisle, transitioning to another lighthearted topic of conversation, they stopped to listen to a rushing gallop. It was loud, and getting increasingly loud as they stayed still. Just as Michelle was about to turn to Lovino and ask something, another horse appeared, and it stopped abruptly at the sight of Lovino and Michelle and rapidly, it approached them.

It was Francis's other horse, his stallion Napoleon, and riding him was a woman. She had short, dark blonde hair tucked under a neat riding cap, only the bangs escaped near her eyes. Those grey, stormy eyes. Lovino knew her somehow.

But she seemed worried. Traumatized.

"Jeanne? What's wrong?" Michelle asked, her voice tense with anxiety.

She glanced from Michelle to Lovino and her mouth stayed firm in a frown. "It's Antonio," she started.

_What?_

"He's hurt."

"Badly."

_How?_

"He was… in the stable… the horses… he was kicked… and—"

_No… no… no… no… I—_

"Wait—Lovino? Where are you going?" Michelle called, and twisted Victoria around to watch him.

Lovino heard her, but he couldn't speak. If he had a body, he didn't feel it. He was numb with fear, but somehow, the smallest part of him knew what to do, knew to flick the reigns, knew to gallop back.

_Because. Antonio. Was. Hurt._

_Antonio. My Antonio. Smiling, beautiful, handsome Antonio. Was. Hurt._

Was his heart still beating, or did that stop too? It felt as though everything turned cold. For once, Lovino's skin was cool and dry, and his blood frozen in its tracks. He was hardly himself. There was only one thing on his mind.

He had to get back. He had to. He had to. What was he going to do? God knows what. Hold him. Pray for him. Kiss him. Anything. _Just don't let him be hurt._ _Please God, don't let Antonio be hurt._

Seconds, minutes, some indistinguishable amount of time later, Lovino was at the stable gate, and with an increased frenzy, he did his best to detach himself from Marie and hurry down to the floor. One foot, two, and he hopped down, stumbling slightly. Then he was up, and searching 360 degrees around.

He had to say something. "Antonio," he whispered, struggling to find his vocal chords.

He tried again. "Antonio?"

 _Louder_. "Antonio!"

 _Louder_. "God damn it, Antonio!" he yelled, now at the top of his lungs. Everything was too quiet. What did that mean? Had an ambulance already picked him up? Was he–

Lovino heard a grunt, and at once he was on the trek again. "Antonio? Are you here?"

Now it was more like a groan, and Lovino's stomach twisted. "Lovi?" he replied softly, weakly.

"Yeah, yeah. It's me. Where the fuck are you?" Lovino asked, and he kept staking down the aisle. The he caught Antonio's figure, crouched and huddled in the corner of a stall. _Oh god._ "Antonio!"

He burst through the door somehow, and ignored the fat horse standing idly in the corner. Lovino went straight to Antonio, who was lazily opening his eyes, and in one swift movement, Lovino wrapped his arms around him.

"Oh god, Antonio," he cried, running his hands down Antonio back. "Oh god, oh god, oh god. Are you okay?" Lovino pulled back and examined his arms, his neck, his chest.

Antonio started to pay a bit more attention and was laughing easily. "Lovi? What are you doing?"

"Shut up! I'm trying to find your injury," Lovino said quickly.

"Injury?" Antonio asked. That tone made Lovino's heart drop. "What injury?"

Slowly, Lovino lifted his gaze up. He finally looked Antonio in the eyes. Antonio was smiling, his eyes were sparkling happily. He was fine. "Jeanne," Lovino started weakly. "Um, Jeanne said—she said you were injured. That you were hurt. And that it was bad."

Antonio knit his eyebrows together. "What?

"Sh-she said—"

"No, I know," Antonio interrupted, something giddy lingering on his lips. "But you thought I was hurt?"

Lovino felt like he was at a loss. "W-well… yeah, I mean—"

"And you were worried?" Antonio pressed, his hands suddenly holding Lovino's.

"What?"

"You were worried about me?"

_Yes. Yes, I was. Wasn't it fucking obvious you imbecile? I almost had a heart attack because of you._

"N-no," Lovino stuttered, he tried to free his hands from Antonio's grasp.

Antonio didn't let go. "Then why are you here?"

Lovino tugged again. "I don't know! J-just because!" he yelled. "Damn it, Antonio! Let me go!"

"Lovino," Antonio began again, this time his voice was serious.

Lovino stopped struggling and stared at him, eyes wide. The first thing that came to mind when they made eye contact was _He knows._ He knows what Lovino doesn't even want himself to know.

But before Antonio could say anything else, someone interrupted.

"Lovino? Antonio? Where are you guys? Jeanne said it was a mistake!" It was Michelle's voice, and she sounded like she was near.

Antonio looked around a bit distracted, and Lovino took the opportunity to yank his hands free and fumble to his feet. Antonio, lazy with sleep, was slow to react, and just as he was standing up, Lovino was ten feet out the door, sprinting away.

"Wait! Lovino!" Antonio called.

Lovino didn't know if he was running after him. he didn't want to risk turning around. If there was one thing was confident in, it was that he could sprint from danger. And that's what Antonio was. He was danger. _A sin._

Lovino sped out of the stable, to the house, past Francis's servants, and towards the garage. He didn't wait for a valet, he just grabbed his key, started his motorcycle, and drove out of the estate.

He didn't know what happened exactly, but Lovino knew he had to get out. Whatever happened, it happened too fast, and all of a sudden it felt like Antonio knew too much. Everything Lovino didn't say aloud or to himself, Antonio knew now.

And that terrified him.

 

~/~

 

_somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond_

_any experience, your eyes have their silence:_

_in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,_

_or which i cannot touch because they are too near_

At night, Lovino sat alone in his room. Feliciano asked about brunch and the riding trip, but Lovino brushed him off and made fast pace for the solitude of his room. His sanctuary.

So he sat there. He read some, he wrote some, mostly he just lied in thoughtful silence and stared at the ceiling. All the while, he fought the urge to loiter near the glass of his balcony door and wait for Antonio's tall figure to appear, farming, gardening, or walking somewhere below.

Lovino was upset with him. No, he was afraid of him.

He was afraid of him, yet why did he also ache to see him?

He turned over in his bed, so he could at least _glance_ at the balcony door. Against all better judgment, he hoped, he prayed, he wished…

_Tap!_

And at the sight and sound of a small pebble smacking off the window pane, Lovino's heart raced. But he didn't dare believe yet. So he waited.

_Tap!_

Another pebble.

_Tap!_

And another.

_Tap!_

Two hands appeared on the whippety iron railing, and only a moment later, Antonio's brown curls appeared too. He hoisted himself over, and landed on the balcony with a thump. Matching the sound of Lovino's heart.

_your slightest look easily will unclose me_

_though i have closed myself as fingers,_

_you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens_

_(touching skilfully, mysteriously) her first rose_

His green eyes shined through the door and met Lovino's. He was standing casually, his hands in his pockets, and a small smile.

Lovino was still lying on his side, staring desperately outside. He wondered whether to move or not. Antonio was waiting for him ( _it felt like he was always waiting_ ), so should he go? It doesn't have to mean anything. But perhaps, just to go...that's okay. _I'm curious_ , Lovino told himself.

So slowly, he rolled off of the bed. He raked his fingers through his hair in a half-hearted attempt to create some order, and tentatively, he walked towards the door. His eyes flicked up to make sure Antonio was an appropriate distance away, and once he confirmed that he was, Lovino unlocked the door, and pulled it open.

He kept the door open just in case he needed an escape, and then, even shyer than before, Lovino moved closer.

_or if your wish be to close me, i and_

_my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,_

_as when the heart of this flower imagines_

_the snow carefully everywhere descending;_

"Hi Lovi," Antonio said. The warmth in his voice reddened Lovino's cheeks.

"Climbing balconies again?" Lovino replied, and leaned against the wall of his house. He tried to hide his trembling hands.

Antonio grinned, and he took a few steps closer. "It's the only way to reach you."

"I'm not a fucking princess," Lovino muttered, and crossed his arms over his chest.

Antonio laughed. He was only a foot away now, and the sound of his voice gave Lovino goosebumps. "You sure act like one," Antonio commented, and Lovino made the mistake of looking up and catching the playful glint in his eyes.

He felt hotter. " _Tsk **—**_ whatever bastard," he mumbled, and unconsciously, he touched his cheek, before tucking his hand back in the crook of his elbow. Lovino glanced back at Antonio, there was something mysterious about him, something unusually dashing. "What do you want?"

"Ah, straight to the point then," Antonio chuckled. His eyes wandered towards the sky and then aimed right at Lovino. "I came here because I wanted to tell you something."

Lovino sucked in a breath. He pressed himself further against the wall. Antonio didn't say anything more, so he prompted, "Yes?"

Antonio's eyes never left his face. He took a step closer, and Lovino could smell the scents of grapes and grass lingering on his skin. Antonio bit his lip, then smiled. "I think you might already know, Lovino. But I figure, since you and I have a bad habit of evading the truth, perhaps I should just say it."

Lovino couldn't back into the wall any further. This is what it's like to be cornered by a wildfire.

Antonio was holding Lovino's hand again. His eyes were vivid green, that was all Lovino could see. And all he could hear was, "I love you."

_I love you._

_Antonio loves me._

_He loves me._

Lovino breathed, his lashes fluttered down, and he stared at their intertwined hands. "Oh," he gulped. "Um, r-really?" Butterflies filled his stomach. He felt light-headed.

"Yes," Antonio affirmed, and gave Lovino's hands a squeeze.

"Oh," Lovino gasped again. He didn't know what else to say. What was he even supposed to do?

Antonio's hands grazed his kin, and delicately brushed some of the locks away from his forehead. "Do you mind if I ask something?"

"S-sure."

Antonio cupped his cheek. "How do you feel about me?"

Oh god. Antonio. How did he feel about Antonio? "Um," he began, and he thought perhaps he heard Antonio suck in a breath. Lovino's eyes wandered back to Antonio's, he could never look away for that long. "I-I don't…I..." he sighed in defeat. "I don't know."

Unexpectedly, Antonio laughed. It sounded like relief. "That's better than I would've thought," he smiled and his eyes traveled across Lovino's face. "Do you **—** " he stopped, like he second-guessed himself.

Lovino wouldn't have any of that. He was already too wired. "What?"

Antonio measured him, and leaned the tiniest bit closer. "Do you mind if I try something?"

"U-um, o-kay," Lovino replied. He couldn't find the will to say anything but yes.

Then slowly, Antonio bowed closer, bending his height so that his head hovered close to Lovino. He was still darting his eyes all over Lovino's face, but once they were centimeters apart, he looked at his lips, and he kissed him. It was tender the way Antonio cautiously molded his lips to Lovino's. He held the back of his head, and made sure to kiss him gently, cautiously, but with the clear aim to savor the sensation.

_nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals_

_the power of your intense fragility: whose texture_

_compels me with the colour of its countries,_

_rendering death and forever with each breathing_

Lovino didn't know whether his heart could beat any faster to flush his cheeks like this. It was a chaste kiss, yet Lovino felt breathless. But he didn't crave air, he was breathless for more. His hands ached to draw Antonio closer, but some part of his brain wouldn't let him. But he wanted to touch Antonio so bad. He wanted to feel more of him. His skin. His hair. Just him. Lovino didn't want this kiss to end.

But it did.

Antonio unlocked their lips, and pulled away far enough so that Lovino could look into his eyes. They were such a dark green. They were shining and dazzling, and so, so green. It was the most beautiful color in the world.

Neither of them said anything. Lovino didn't know what to say, and it seemed like Antonio was waiting for Lovino's outburst. A negative reaction of some kind.

But it wasn't there.

And Antonio kept watching Lovino, and Lovino kept breathing. He looked up, down, and unwittingly licked his lips when he thought Antonio had turned away.

It was minutes when Antonio spoke again. "You look nice today."

Lovino tried to bite down his smile, but failed, and he tried to hide it with his hand. "You already said that."

"Did I?" Antonio laughed. He ran his fingers through Lovino's hair again.

"Yeah," Lovino mumbled, and brought his hand back down to nervously twist with his other.

"You know what you're like?"

Lovino knit his eyebrows together and looked up. It felt like a trap. "What?"

Antonio grinned. "Red wine."

Lovino shook his head as a reluctant chuckle left his lips. "You're so stupid."

"Maybe," Antonio laughed, and he leaned to press a short kiss to Lovino's forehead. "But you always smell like red wine. Fruity, but also kind of…bitter."

"That sounds appealing," Lovino rolled his eyes.

"And you look like red wine too," Antonio teased, and kissed one of Lovino's cheeks.

Lovino felt even hotter. He wanted to hide away. But then why was he still smiling? "You really are stupid."

Antonio's hands wandered to Lovino's waist and drew him closer until his hips met Antonio's. "And you want to know what else? You taste like red wine too."

Lovino's skin buzzed. "You don't like red wine."

Antonio grinned mischievously. "I think I'm starting to like it."

Lovino's stomach flipped, but he made a show of hitting Antonio lightly on the shoulder. "You idiot."

Antonio hummed, and resumed pressing his lips to the sides of Lovino's face.

Lovino breathed shakily as he mustered up the courage to say something. He felt as stupid as Antonio right now.

"Hey."

"Yes?"

"C-can you…" Lovino looked away. He wanted to dash into his bedroom. But he didn't. "C-can you try...that again."

"What?" Antonio asked, his voice innocent.

Lovino's heart stuttered in tune with his voice. " _Y-you know_ …"

A few seconds, and Antonio echoed a soft " _Oh._ " Lovino felt his hands slide up his sides, he wanted Lovino closer.

Antonio tilted Lovino's face up with one hand, and Lovino was forced to witness his smile again.

"Did you like the first kiss?" he asked happily.

"No," Lovino lied.

Antonio didn't seem offended. Instead his eyes brightened. "Should I try to make it up to you?"

Lovino glanced at Antonio's lips, and then his eyes. "Yes."

Antonio grinned, and smashed their lips together.

_(i do not know what it is about you that closes_

_and opens; only something in me understands_

_the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)_

_nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *"somewhere I have never travelled, gladly beyond" by E.E. Cummings
> 
>  
> 
> I don't have much to say. I feel like this odyssey of a chapter speaks for itself xD Can you believe I originally planned to make all of these chapters like 5k each? And now they're like 8k plus xD The past few being over 11k. I have a problem.
> 
> And, if you haven't already, please check out The Goliath Beetle's gift fic for me. It's called The Rose Family, and it's absolutely fabulous. As are all her lovely stories. I highly recommend you give her works a look-see :D She's amazing.
> 
> Anyway, thank you so, so much for reading! I really appreciate all of your support! As I say in every chapter, I am lost the entire time while writing it, but I find my way to the end because of you guys.


	8. Dolcetto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last night wasn't a dream. Antonio kissed him. Antonio loved him...Now what?

Lovino awoke to the feeling of sunshine caressing his skin. He used to hate that feeling; he always woke up in a sour mood, no matter the time or the place. But for some reason today, what usually would send him cursing and groaning, and burying further under the covers, instead made him smile.

He’d never been a fan of the heat, but this felt different. It was warm, but comforting; soft, like an embrace. It made him think of Antonio.

As the thought of him lingered however, Lovino suddenly remembered the night before. It rushed back at a dizzying speed. The balcony. The confession. The kiss.

_The kiss._

Blood rushed to Lovino’s face.

Antonio loved him. Antonio kissed him. And Lovino didn’t stop him. Antonio kissed him twice, and he liked it. Unconsciously, Lovino’s fingers travelled to his lips, and he realized he wanted to kiss him again.

It was so confusing, but at the same time it was the most invigorating feeling in the world. He never felt like this when he kissed Emma or any Italian girl. There was something incredibly thrilling when Antonio pressed their lips together. He felt so consumed by all of his masculinity, and all of his charm. He wanted to devour him, and be devoured at the same time. He wanted to be close.

Antonio. Where was Antonio?

 

~/~

 

Somehow, he went through the motions of a usual morning. He stepped into the shower, shampooed his hair, washed his face, dried and dressed himself. But all the while, he felt as though he was in some sort of daze. A trance.

Why was he still thinking about Antonio? Any sentences he could write in his mind all had his name.

_I wonder what Antonio’s doing. Is he awake? Well, probably. The bastard’s always awake. I wonder if he even sleeps at all. Does he ever brush his hair? It’s always such a mess. I should probably make something for him, I bet he forgets to eat. He’s such an airhead._

At some point Lovino flushed red and clawed at his head.

God, it was so infuriating. Why could he not think of anyone else? Or of anything else? It was only Antonio. The next time he saw him he was going to curse and yell and guilt-trip him so hard—the next time he saw him…

Lovino’s face softened again, and his eyes shined golden. He was in the middle of descending the stairs, and all of a sudden he felt that rush again. His heart beat staccato, but his limbs felt so weak. Where was he going again?

“Lovino? Is that you? I have breakfast ready if you want some!”

The sound of Feliciano’s voice awakened him, and somehow, Lovino’s body pushed forward, even as his thoughts lingered somewhere, far away.

He stumbled into the kitchen still smiling slightly, and made the simple motion to sit down in one of the wooden kitchen chairs. Feliciano was whistling and stirring something in the pan. It smelled like omelettes.

_I wonder if Antonio likes omelettes._

Lovino’s shifted his gaze to the kitchen window (his watchpost), and briefly he considered moving there to see if Antonio was in sight.

“Lovi, do you want the one with peppers, or no peppers?” Feliciano asked.

“Peppers,” Lovino replied automatically, and he cupped his cheek in his palm.

“Ve~okay!” Feli sing-songed, and he shuffled around the tile floor, setting one omelette down in front of Lovino, and another in front of the other set of silverware. The he switched off the oven, and skipped  back to his seat.  “So, did you have a good night?”

“Hm,” Lovino hummed, and dazily looked down at his plate.

“Your night,” Feli asked again, this time paying attention to his brother’s expression. He tilted his head to the side curiously, in wait of the answer.

Lovino pushed the omelette with is fork. “It was all right.”

“Really?” Feli asked suspiciously, and his eyes flicked to Lovino’s small, hesitant smile. “Did you have any good dreams?”

Lovino’s cheeks reddened, and his smile broadened unwittingly. “No.”

“You’re smiling,” Feli giggled.  
  
Lovino covered his mouth. “No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are!” Feli exclaimed with another bout of laughter. “It must have been a good dream, hm?”

“No,” Lovino replied stubbornly, and began cutting his omelette now.

“Oh really? Then what’s the smile for?” Feli asked again.

“I’m not—” he stopped, and his cheeks flushed darker. “No reason.”

“Oh?” Feli raised an eyebrow and waited for an answer. Lovino kept sorting his omelette into pieces and said nothing. “Well, does it have something to do with…tomatoes?”

Lovino’s eyes flashed threateningly.

“No? Well, how about…grapes?” Feli asked curiously, his eyes glinting.

“Why would I be smiling about grapes?”

Feli smirked. “Maybe they were Spanish grapes…”

Lovino’s heart stopped. His palms sweat. All of a sudden his body was overcome with the electrifying urge to run. He was in danger.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied hurriedly, and he dropped the fork in a nervous clatter. The clinking of silverware sent him wincing and clawing at his scalp furiously. God, he was such an idiot. “Why the hell are you always asking about me anyway? What’s up with your cough or bronchitis whatever?"

Feliciano suddenly recognized he overstepped his boundaries. His eyes softened in pity, and he opened his mouth to reassure his brother, but…somehow, he knew that his words would mean nothing. If anything, saying that he knows Lovino is gay would only scare him further away.

So Feliciano closed his eyes in a soft sigh, then like a dial, he turned up a new smile and reached for his lightest, happiest voice. “Ve~it’s fine! The antibiotics are really helping! But I’m still going back on Friday for a checkup.”

Lovino’s shoulders’ slumped, and his eyebrows unlocked in silent relief. “That’s good.”

“Yeah,” Feliciano agreed, his eyes sharp.

Lovino’s cheeks were still warm, and he looked to the window.

“How’s the omelette?”

“Fine.”

 

~/~

 

After breakfast, Lovino approached the day more cautiously. He woke up with the burning desire to hold Antonio, but after the strange conversation with Feliciano he’s reminded…he can’t let this go too far. What was he even doing?

_Nothing. Everything. Something._

Is it dangerous?

 _No. Actually_ _—Y_ _es. Yes. Oh, God yes, it is. Of course it is._

Then why is he doing it?

_No reason. Out of curiosity. Boredom? Nothing better to do. It doesn’t mean anything._

And Antonio’s question: “What do you think of me?”

…

_I don’t know what I think of you. I know I think of you all the time. I dream of you. I have nightmares about you. I…I think I hate you. But then, I also kind of don’t. I want to run whenever I see you, but I don’t know if I want to run into your arms, or somewhere faraway. You’re an idiot, but sometimes I think you’re smarter than me. I think you’re a liar. No—I know you’re a liar. And you might be a bigger liar than me. I hate that._

_But…_

_I like your smile. Your real smile. I like the way you do what you want, because I don’t have the courage for that. I like that you rise and fall with the sun; that you’re always tan, and often burned. I like that your eyes are as green as the leaves. I like that you don’t care about money, because I think about it too much._

_When you’re near me, every part of me comes alive, and I wonder if I’m wilting whenever you go away._

_I…don’t know what that means, but that’s what I think of you._

_And I’m terrified it means more than it should._

 

~/~

 

It was a hot summer day. The sun was high in the sky, and only a few wisps of clouds lingered nearby. Lawnmowers ran, sprinklers turned, birds sang and leaves rustled. Lovino was watching the day grow old from his window; and at around two in the afternoon, Feli and Tino drove away in the happy, yellow T-bird with some vague announcement of getting groceries or something similar. Lovino nodded his head and rolled his eyes, but as soon as the car rolled away, he released a large breath of air he didn’t know he’d been holding in.

Slowly, something tingling traveled through his veins, and he felt the sudden urge to run. To go outdoors. He knew why, but he told himself he was just getting some fresh air, and that was all there was to it.

He slipped on his Superga white sneakers, and opened the door. It was the same view from his window, no person in sight. So Lovino shut the door behind him and started walking. He pretended not to notice how fast his heart was racing, and instead busied himself with staring at the tomato plants and flowers. Everything was full and blooming, and alive with summer.

Lovino pressed his lips together and continued stamping towards the lemon tree. He arrived under the hood of the leaves and he almost wanted to scream in frustration. As he clawed at his scalp and mussed his hair, he thought _What the hell am I doing? God, this is so pathetic. Antonio’s going to be here any minute…_

His cheeks warmed and his heart stammered, but he didn’t run away. Instead, Lovino sat down and held his head in his hands. He knew he would regret this later, but at least Feli and Tino weren’t here to witness it.

Lovino pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. His eyes drifted to the grass, and he looked at some of the flowers growing around him. White and yellow, pinks and oranges; most of them small and swaying with every breeze.

He picked one of them, and twirled it in his fingers.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps. They were calm and strolling, pressing dirt and crunching a few rocks and leaves here and there. Lovino knew those footsteps. He knew the pace and the gait. But he refused to turn around, and he kept staring at his flower, praying to God that his blush would fade away.

Then the footsteps stopped, and someone sat down beside him. Not someone. Antonio. Lovino felt as though he was hit by the sun from two angles, but he refused to face him.

“Hello,” Antonio said, his voice happy.

Lovino unwittingly tilted his face slightly away, and his cheeks flushed darker. “Hi,” he mumbled.

Antonio settled more comfortably in the grass and slid his hands behind him. “Have you been waiting here very long?”

“No,” Lovino replied shortly, and he reached for another flower.

“Ah,” Antonio sighed, and he shifted again. “That’s good.”

Lovino nodded his head, and he plucked the flower.

“Were you, um,” Antonio paused, and Lovino wondered what expression he had. “Were you waiting for me?”

A wave of heat washed over Lovino’s face, and he knew it must have been obvious. “No,” he replied shortly and focused on his two flowers: one yellow and one pink.

Despite his lie, Lovino still felt Antonio’s eyes on him, and he wanted to hide away even more.

“How was your day?” Lovino blurted clumsily. He wanted to stop Antonio before he could say something stupid.

But instead of an answer, Lovino felt a calloused hand grasp his chin, and gently turn it right. Lovino had no choice but to hold his breath and look up at Antonio’s face for the first time today…but it was like always, and his body reacted the same way. Someone lit his skin on fire, and sent his skin abuzz, and the rest of him melted at the sight of the same soft smile, the same curly and uncombed hair, and the same rich, green eyes.

Lovino’s gaze flickered all over his face, taking it in as fast as he could before he would turn away. However, Antonio’s hand stayed, and Lovino noticed his lips were moving.

First, he chuckled, and the sound made Lovino shift his eyes to the grass nervously. “I’m sorry Lovi,” he began, and then used his other hand to cup Lovino’s cheek. “I was just tired of you not looking at me. It feels like forever since I’ve seen your face,” he confessed.

Lovino looked at him, and his sincere expression. “That’s stupid,” Lovino scoffed.

“Really? I don’t think so,” Antonio said, and he leaned forward. “I like looking at you.”

They were so close. Lovino gasped audibly, then at once, his sense kicked in and he dove out of Antonio’s hands.

“That’s even more stupid,” Lovino grumbled, and grabbed a fistful of grass, then tossed it in the wind.

Antonio just laughed easily and heartily. “I don’t think so.”

Lovino bit his lip, and muttered quietly, “Then you’re stupid.”

“Probably,” Antonio agreed.

A few moments passed, and as Lovino spent his time tying his flowers together, Antonio hummed and exchanged looks between the horizon and Lovino.

“What are you making?” Antonio asked, and he shuffled closer to Lovino.

Lovino flinched and stared at him wide-eyed before flicking his eyes down at his flowers again. “O-oh, I don’t know. I just do this sometimes,” he stuttered and dropped his flowers on the grass hurriedly.

Antonio picked them up (his shoulder briefly grazing Lovino’s arm), and looked at them curiously. “Aw, they’re pretty,” he cooed and picked another flower to add it to the creation. He twisted the flowers together and worked at tying them in a small circle. “Don’t you think these would make a wedding nice ring?"

Lovino ignored the tingling sensation that ran up his spine and tried his best to sound nonchalant. “Not really. They’d die too quickly.”

Antonio met his gaze, and his smile broadened. The twinkle in his eyes made Lovino lightheaded, and then Antonio said, “Then I’d make a new one everyday.”

He didn’t say it, but Lovino could have sworn he heard the words _for you_ added to the end.

So swiftly, he turned his head away and stammered, “God, that’s just—you’re just—damn it!” Lovino huffed and wrapped his arms around his legs again. “I don’t know why you say these things.”

Antonio’s hand grazed over Lovino’s and gently pulled it away. Against all better judgment, Lovino shifted his gaze, and watched Antonio slide the small bouquet onto his left ring finger.

Antonio’s eyes lifted to meet his, and he smiled. “Yes, you do,” he finally replied, and held Lovino’s cold and slightly shaking hand (even now, they were cold), in between his warm, rough ones.

Lovino could’ve responded in a hundred ways, and ninety-nine of those involved curse words and screaming and running away. But he didn’t choose any of them, and instead, swallowed his embarrassment and frustration and kept silent. His eyes flicked down, and then to Antonio. Secretly, he was hoping that Antonio would kiss him again. Lovino wondered if it would feel the same. Would it still be intoxicating? Electrifying? Dizzying?

Lovino looked at Antonio’s lips and then at his eyes, and noticed Antonio was closing in.

“Do you mind…” Antonio began, and his hands found their way on either side of Lovino’s face. “If I try that again?”

Lovino didn’t reply. He thought about nodding or shaking his head, but he didn’t. He just stared at Antonio and wished he would just kiss him already. He knew Antonio could read him like a book.

And after a moment, Antonio seemed to understand. He leaned forward and flit his eyes over Lovino’s face only for a half a second, before swiftly stealing his breath and molding their lips together.

Lovino’s heart pounded when he noticed this kiss was a bit different than last night’s. It felt a bit more passionate, heated, and like Antonio was testing him—waiting for Lovino to push away.

But he didn’t.

It didn’t feel real. It was like a dream. And if it was a dream, Lovino felt more than willing to go along. He tentatively kissed back and parted his lips for Antonio, who in turn reciprocated and slid his hands through Lovino’s hair and drew him closer.

Lovino longed to be closer. It was frightening and scorching, but it was also so lovely. To be close to Antonio…what would it be like?

Lovino wouldn’t let them get too close. He was very careful of how far Antonio leaned in, and kept his hands firmly on Antonio’s shoulders. But he did, kind of, sort of, enjoy the kiss. He kissed plenty of women before. And _well_ too, dammit. But Lovino had noticed already yesterday that Antonio must have been experienced too, and maybe just as good of a kisser as him. And it was strange to be the one being led when you’re so accustomed to being the leader.

And Lovino let himself enjoy the kiss until he heard a peculiar sound. It almost sounded like a…moan. _Oh my god,_ Lovino thought. _D-did I just—_

At once, his eyes flew open, and he noticed with dread that Antonio’s eyes had opened too; so in one movement, Lovino broke the kiss and stammered a fast, “Oh God, I-I’m so sorry—damn it, I should just—” Lovino scrambled to run away, but Antonio was fast grip his arms and pull him back down.

Antonio’s face was in front of his again, and he was slightly pink, but smiling brightly. “No, Lovino! You don’t need to apologize. Everything’s all right,” he assured him, his voice upbeat and sincere.

Lovino grumbled something incoherent and fidgeted with his ring.

“I think I’m going to take a siesta,” Antonio announced merrily, and he let go of Lovino’s arms to lay back in the grass.

Lovino glanced at him, and quickly turned away, red-faced.

“Would you like to join me?” Antonio asked tentatively, his voice gentler than before.

Lovino bit his lip and glanced around for any sign of Feli’s car, or Berwald, or Kiku. They were alone right now. P-perhaps a nap wouldn’t be too bad.

Lovino mumbled something close to _“fuck it”_ and hurriedly fell back in the grass before he had the chance to change his mind. He heard Antonio chuckle, and glared at him.

“What?” Lovino demanded, and tried his best look violent.

Antonio simply held the gaze with knowing eyes, and pressed his lips together to stop himself from laughing more. “Nothing. I’m just happy,” he said simply, as if it were an excuse.

“Whatever,” Lovino mumbled and turn on his side, his back facing Antonio.

He heard that soft laugh again, and he tried to ignore string of buzzes it sent through his veins. He tried to focus on sleeping. Closing his eyes, ignoring Antonio’s presence and sleeping.

Then he felt a soft touch on his hip, where his shirt had ridden up and his skin was exposed. He knew it was Antonio’s hand that had crept along, so that he could hold Lovino around the waist. He also knew it was Antonio’s hand that swept once through his hair, and Antonio’s body that shifted in the grass so that they he could hold Lovino properly.

Lovino held his breath at first and he was sure Antonio did too. But then the wind blew and some birds sang and Lovino still hadn’t pushed Antonio away cursing and stubborn. Antonio relaxed and continued letting his fingers graze lazily over Lovino’s skin.

Even Lovino relaxed, and slowly he felt himself drift off, Antonio’s breath and touches caressing him to sleep.

  
~/~

 

Feliciano and Tino returned home right before sunset, and they stumbled through the door carrying bags and bags of groceries.

“Lovi! We’re home!” Feli announced as he placed his bags on the kitchen counter.

Tino did the same, then busied himself with stowing things away in their proper places. Feli still waited for Lovino’s reply.

“Lovi?” Feli called again, and stepped into the hallway. He took a look around and caught a faint light streaming from the door to the cellar. Feliciano contemplated going downstairs, but before he could, someone started walking up. He repeated, “Lovi, is that you?”

“Yeah, yeah,” came the familiar voice, and after a few moments, Lovino appeared in the doorway, dressed simply, and carrying a bottle of wine.

“Oh? What’s the wine for?” Feli asked, a smile spreading slowly across his lips.

Heat rushed to Lovino’s face and he glared at his brother. “Nothing, damn it! I’m just drinking away my misery,” he replied dramatically, and held the bottle close to his chest.

Feliciano couldn’t help but laugh. Lovino looked anything but miserable, it was so obvious; Lovino wasn’t one to hide his feelings well. He was an open book. And by the sparkle in his eyes, and the tint to his cheeks (Lovino’s lips weren’t even frowning!), Feli had his suspicions why.

“Ve~ do you want me to make some dinner for you?”

Lovino turned away and thumbed the label of the bottle. “I’m not hungry. I just want to drink some wine.”

“Aw, that sounds romantic!” Feli cooed happily and leaned against the wall.

At once, Lovino’s shoulders stiffened and another wave of crimson washed his cheeks. “No, it isn’t! It’s perfectly normal!” He tried to hold a severe gaze, but with Feliciano giggling, he couldn’t and instead, turned to stomp towards the stairs, mumbling, “Oh, fuck it. I’m leaving.”

Feliciano kept giggling, and waved to his brother’s back. “ _Buona notte_ , Lovi! Enjoy your wine!”

Lovino stopped to give him an obscene gesture, then continued pacing up the stairs, until the door to his bedroom shut behind him.

Feliciano hummed to himself and strolled back to the kitchen.

 _Yep, something good definitely happened to Lovino,_ he thought.

His eyes drifted to the window and he smiled.

 

~/~

 

And the pattern continued.

For days, Lovino would sneak out in the afternoon, when Tino was doing the shopping or chores around the house, and Feliciano was fast asleep for his siesta. He would loiter near the lemon tree, and secretly wait for Antonio, though he never said that, and the two of them would waste a few hours talking, or arguing, sometimes kissing, and less often sleeping.

Lovino was afraid, each day, to meet up with Antonio; but still, there was a part of him that couldn’t deny how much he enjoyed the thrill knowing he was getting away with something kind of _dangerous._ He still knew it was wrong—he knew it—but he rationalized to himself that if it stayed a secret, then…

Maybe it was okay.

Because, Lovino had to think that. He didn’t know if it was possible for him to physically ignore Antonio anymore. It seemed unfathomable. Lovino woke up missing him and craving his touch, and went to bed aching for more.

Antonio still kissed him when they were together, and was still very careful. Sometimes, when he held Lovino’s waist or bit his lip, Lovino would yell at him to stop it, and Antonio obeyed at once. But Lovino didn’t mean it. He never did. When Antonio kissed him, Lovino wanted him to kiss him more. When he wrapped his arms around him, Lovino wanted him to do it more.

But he couldn’t say it. He never could. He didn’t even mean to lie most of the time, it just happened. It scared him to wonder when he became such a habitual liar. Half the things he said to Antonio weren’t true, and Antonio was too much of an editor and diverter to reveal any truth about himself, so how did the two of them have any true conversation?

Lovino had no idea.

 

~/~

 

“Lovino,” Antonio called, his voice was soft.

Lovino heard his name and tried to open his eyes. Light and blue skies blinded his vision and he groaned as he turned on his side to avoid the sun. He could hear Antonio chuckling, but Lovino was more preoccupied with not seeing stars anymore, and after moments of blinking, his eyes adjusted so that he could see Antonio lying on his side right next to him, and watching him with a shine of amusement in his eyes.

It didn’t take long for heat to start creeping to Lovino’s cheeks again. “What is it?” he demanded, and belatedly, he added, “bastard.”

Antonio’s grin broadened, and it glinted in the sunlight. “I just had a question for you.”

Lovino’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, and he pursed his lips.

“I was wondering,” Antonio began, and his voice was tender. “If maybe, you wanted to go on a date sometime.”

Lovino’s heart stuttered, and he knew his cheeks must have been radiating a dark red. “A…date?”

“Yeah,” Antonio nodded and his eyes twinkled. His fingers reached out to part Lovino’s bangs from his eyes. Something flew across Antonio’s expression, and he added, “But, um, it would have to be something simple. I don’t have much money,” he chucked in embarrassment. “I thought maybe we could go for a…picnic, or to the beach, or for a hike—”

“I don’t like hiking,” Lovino interrupted.

Antonio’s eyes fluttered in surprise, and suddenly his smile brightened. “Would the beach be better?”

Swimsuits and strangers flashed across Lovino’s mind and he grimaced. “I don’t like crowds.”  

Antonio beamed. “So,” he started nervously, but still with a hopeful smile. “A picnic?”

Lovino eyes darted away from all of the charming allure of Antonio’s face, and at the grass. He needed to be nonchalant. Uncaring. Detached. And slowly, he replied, “I’ll cook. I don’t want you screwing anything up.”

“Really?” Antonio gasped.

“Well, yeah. I mean what can you cook in that puny kitc— _HEY_! Get off of me!” Lovino shouted, when he was suddenly attacked by another one of Antonio’s surprising and impulsive hugs. He was pinned to the ground, with Antonio’s strong, tan arms wrapped around him, Antonio’s nose nuzzled near his neck, and Antonio’s laughter bubbling all around him.

“Antonio,” Lovino began, and he felt his heart pinched traitorously. “Get off of me!”

_Stay here._

“Damn it!”

_Please._

“I swear to God, if you don’t let me go this instant, I’m going to—”

_Nothing. Please don’t let go._

But Antonio did, and he pulled back far enough so that Lovino could witness Antonio’s ever-present smile, which appeared almost like a smug grin, but that seemed too far-fetched of an idea.

“If you cook, what should I do?” Antonio asked, still calmly poised above Lovino’s face.

Lovino’s eyes darted away as the flush of embarrassment returned. “I don’t care. Nothing. It’s just a picnic."

“Hm, but it’s not really fair if you do all of the work. Not to mention, I wanted to be romantic,” Antonio said suddenly, and Lovino’s eyes flashed to his.

“You wanted to be wh—”

“Oh! I have an idea,” Antonio exclaimed and he smiled at Lovino triumphantly.

Lovino frowned and looked to the side. “Whatever.”

Antonio’s fingers brushed along the side of Lovino’s face.

 _It’s a casual, meaningless gesture,_ Lovino thought. _But then why does he do it all the fucking time? And why is it so infuriating?_

“When would you like to go tomorrow?” Antonio asked gently. His voice was as delicate as his fingers.

Lovino glanced up at his smile. “Lunch, I guess.”

“Okay,” Antonio replied, and he brushed away Lovino’s hair. “Let’s meet at eleven.”

“I’ll drive,” Lovino said automatically.

Antonio raised an eyebrow and his lips quirked. “But you have a motorcycle.”

“So what?” Lovino exclaimed defensively, and his skin buzzed.

“Well, it’ll be a rather intimate ride, but that’s fine with me,” Antonio replied easily.

Lovino’s eyes flew open as the mental image slaughtered his mind. His cheeks burned. “O-oh, wait. Um, maybe—w-we can take Feli’s ca—er—nevermind,” Lovino trailed off. There’s no way he could explain a picnic with Antonio not awkwardly. “Wh-what about Berwald? He has a car, right?” Lovino’s voice quickened with anxiety.

“Hm, I think he’s leaving for the day too,” Antonio said, his eyes twinkling.

“We could walk,” Lovino blurted.

“You don’t like hiking,” Antonio pointed out.

Lovino opened and shut his mouth, at a loss for excuses and tricks. He was trapped. “Damn it, fine!” he shouted, and pushed Antonio away so he could sit up. “Like I care.”

Antonio laughed, and rolled onto his back. Then he noticed Lovino was getting up, and he scrambled to his elbows. “Wait—where are you going?”

Lovino was standing and patting the grass and dirt off of his knees. “Where do you think? To the kitchen to try and think of a decent cold dish. I sure as hell hope Feli did the groceries,” he muttered, and caught Antonio moving from the corner of his eye. He turned around and crossed his arms over his chest. His heart raced. “What?”

Antonio smiled and stepped closer. He untangled Lovino’s arms so that he could hold his hands.

“Damn it,” Lovino mumbled, and his tilted his head away, growing scared. “What is it now?”

Antonio chuckled, and there might’ve been the faintest tinge of pink to his cheeks. Lovino couldn’t tell. “I wanted a goodbye kiss.”

Lovino’s face burned, and he stared at the ground.

“Is that…okay?” he asked tentatively, an dipped his head in attempt to catch Lovino’s eyes.

Lovino’s face felt hotter and hotter. He really didn’t know how to respond. Sometimes Antonio still liked to ask permission for whatever reason, but Lovino always stayed silent until Antonio would understand what he meant. _Why was he taking so long this time?_

“Lovi?” Antonio called, and he managed to draw Lovino’s gaze to him. “Can I kiss you?”

_Why does he keep asking? Just do it, or don’t do it! I can’t—_

“No!” Lovino protested, and he tried to wiggle out of Antonio’s grasp. “Damn it! Just let me go already!”

He tried to glare at Antonio, but was confused when he saw Antonio watching him calmly and curiously—like he was trying to figure something out.

“H-hey! Quit staring and let me…” Lovino’s voice trailed off after he felt Antonio’s hand leave his hand and rest at the back of his head.

He knew what was coming, he could see it in Antonio’s eyes, and even after the denial and the lies, Lovino still couldn’t push him away. Antonio leaned in and pressed his lips firmly to his, and after only a few hesitant moments, Lovino yanked his other hand away so he could wrap his arms around Antonio’s neck. He was kissing back, and it frightened him. He wondered if it surprised Antonio.

Lovino didn’t even know what he was doing. He just knew that he needed to kiss Antonio, and that Antonio was kissing him, and it was a decent enough excuse to do as he (secretly) wished.

Antonio’s hands shifted to grasp either side of Lovino’s face, and he deepened the kiss. Lovino couldn’t breathe, and he didn’t even want to. When Antonio kissed him like this it made him light-headed, and thrilled; he felt like Antonio wanted him, and it felt so good to be wanted. Half the time he couldn’t believe Antonio really cared about him, but when he was kissed like this he thought…maybe it could be true.

He wanted it to be true.

Slowly, gently, Antonio removed his lips, and his face retreated only far enough so that he could meet Lovino’s eyes clearly.

What sort of expression Lovino had, he didn’t know. He hoped it was careless, maybe angry, even scared would be better than, well, anything else.

Antonio seemed so damn enigmatic, it made Lovino want to scream. He was just looking, staring at Lovino like he was thinking about something very deeply, like he was trying to solve some mystery or physics problem or whatever. And Lovino let him.

It was only when the corners of Antonio’s lips turned up, that Lovino’s instincts kicked in. At once, he unlatched himself from Antonio’s neck, and pushed him away.

“I told you to let me go!” Lovino yelled loudly, but with no real meaning behind it. He turned on his heel and began stomping back to the house.

Antonio’s laughter echoed in the air. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“Like I care!” Lovino replied sarcastically, and he picked up his pace.

Antonio was still laughing when Lovino slammed the door.

 

~/~

 

At night, Antonio sat outside the farmers’ house, at the wooden table. He had just finished his rounds of trimming and grooming the vines, and Berwald was parking the lawnmower. It was Kiku’s night off, so it was just the two of them today. 

Antonio rested his legs on the bench and his elbows on the table. He stared wistfully at the balcony on the left side, now glowing red and gold in the rays of the sunset. He couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Lovino running around somewhere inside, maybe working on lunch for tomorrow, or drinking wine in the cellar, or arguing with Feliciano. Antonio wondered what else Lovino did when he was locked away in his room.

He laughed when he realized, that’s only one of many things he wonders about Lovino all of the time.

“Toni,” Berwald called. He walked up to the table, straight-faced and serious as ever. “I’m done.”

“Oh,” Antonio said and he turned his attention away from the house to smile at Berwald. “Do you want dinner or something?”

“Sure,” he mumbled, and sat down on the bench across.

It was Antonio’s turn to cook dinner, and he had already prepared a simple seafood paella earlier, and was keeping it warm on the stove. Swiftly, he set aside plates for himself and Berwald, switched the stove off, and hurried outside.

Berwald didn’t say anything when he got his meal, and immediately picked up the fork and knife already set on the table and began eating.

Antonio smiled in amusement, and he started eating as well. After some silence, however, Antonio’s mind wandered to the same places it always went to, and he felt the overwhelming need to talk.

“So Berwald,” he began awkwardly. Berwald glanced at him and he faltered. “Um, how are things going with Tino?”

It was almost undetectable, but for Antonio, who had spent several months with the man when he had barely any expression, the faint pink hue was unmistakable. His voice was the same though, and he replied very calmly, saying, “Fine.”

Antonio’s shoulders slumped slightly. That wasn’t what he was looking for. He wanted inspiration. “Oh?” he asked. Berwald nodded and took another bite. “Do you guys have any plans this weekend?”

“Tino w’nts to see a play.”

Antonio smiled. “That sounds fun! Which one?”

Berwald shrugged his shoulders and continued eating.

Antonio almost laughed, but something tugged at his heart, and he tilted his gaze back towards the balcony, his smile fading.

“What ‘bout you?” Berwald asked.

Antonio twitched, and he stared at Berwald, a bit stunned. “Oh,” he laughed, and remembered what he was supposed to say. “I don’t know. I guess I’ll hang out. Maybe I’ll stop by and see Francis and Jeanne or something. I think Gilbert’s in San Francisco right now.” He got a bit carried away with his diversion.

Berwald stared blankly. “What ‘bout him?” He gestured slightly to the main house.

Antonio almost dropped his fork. A laugh bubbled out automatically and he grinned. “Oh, that’s nothing,” he said and waved his hand. “We’re just friends Berwald, you know that.” Antonio kept laughing. He didn’t really need to.

Berwald kept looking at him, and there was an ever so slight press to his lips, and he returned to his paella without another word.

Antonio exhaled, and wiped some of his hair away from his forehead. He was sweating.

 

~/~

 

An hour before eleven, Antonio was already waiting. He didn’t know exactly how they were leaving. He knew they were riding Lovino’s motorcycle, but he didn’t know how Lovino was going to greet him. And he concluded that if he waited under the lemon tree, eventually Lovino would find him.

And he had enough to think about until then.

He thought he figured something out the other day, and he wanted desperately to try it. There was something about Lovino’s face – his eyes most of the time – that eluded him. He finally understood that Lovino’s words rarely meant anything, so he’d been trying for ages to decipher his face. What was Lovino really thinking? What did he mean?

…

_What does he think of me?_

Antonio was fairly sure he figured it out. He…thought finally, _finally_ he figured out what was stirring in the depths of Lovino’s golden-brown eyes. He just had to test it out. And then there’s that other thing…

The garage door opened, and was followed by the distinct sound of a powerful motor revving.

Antonio’s heart raced and he jumped to his feet in an instant. Lovino’s face was shielded by his helmet, not to mention he was facing straight forward, but just the sight of him made Antonio smile and hurry over.

A basket was strapped to the back securely, and Antonio’s eyes gleamed. He wondered what Lovino made.

“ _Buenos dias_ , Lovi,” he said, and was ready for a hug.

Lovino replied by shoving a helmet into his arms. “Just get on,” he muttered.

Antonio chuckled and slipped on the helmet. “I’ve never ridden a motorcycle before. This is kind of exciting.”

“No, it’s not,” Lovino replied.

Antonio threw one leg over and straddled the seat behind Lovino. He heard Lovino tap the handle expectantly, followed by sigh.

“What are you waiting for?” Lovino grumbled, and his hands gripped tighter.

Antonio fought another laugh. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said innocently. Surely, Lovino was blushing.

“Damn it, you’re waiting for me to say it, aren’t you?” Lovino groaned, and his head fell forward. He took a few deep breaths, and quietly said, “You have to hold on to me, okay?”

“Okay!” Antonio repeated, and he immediately wrapped his arms around Lovino’s waist.

“Bastard,” Lovino mumbled, and he kicked his feet off the ground.  

They started driving away, and Antonio incidentally held on tighter. He forgot Lovino was Italian, and sweat started to bead at his forehead. _He’s already crashed once before_ , he thought.  

“Antonio,” Lovino said.

The rush of wind was loud, but Lovino rarely called Antonio by his real name, so Antonio listened attentively.

“Just calm down. I’m not going to crash,” Lovino continued, his voice just loud enough to hear.

Antonio grinned, and rested his cheek against Lovino’s back. “It’s a bit different than riding a horse.”

Lovino replied something along the lines of “whatever” or “of course,” Antonio wasn’t really sure; the tone was all the same. They stopped talking again, and Antonio stared out at the scenery as it continued to change. The wind was incredibly loud, but he didn’t really pay much attention.

“Which turn is it?” Lovino asked.

Antonio lifted his head to peer over Lovino’s shoulder. “Right. And then it’s straight until the sign.”

Lovino followed the directions without a word.

Antonio laid his cheek on Lovino’s back again. Minutes passed. Vineyards turned into cornfields.

“Wh-what’s wrong?”

Antonio was surprised. “Nothing. What do you mean?” He tried to catch a glimpse of Lovino’s eyes through the tinted glass of the helmet. They were staring intently at the road.

“You’re quiet,” Lovino replied. His voice made it seem like he was embarrassed to be talking. “I-I thought you wouldn’t be really chatty or something.”

Antonio’s lips turned up in appreciation. Lovino was worried about him. “Don’t worry, Lovi.”

“Wha—who the fuck said I was wo—”

“I just have a lot on my mind.”

Lovino was quiet. “Like what?” he asked.

Antonio closed his eyes. It was a little frightening, but there was a strange thrill to it. He opened them again. “I was wondering…have you told anyone?”

Lovino’s body tensed under Antonio’s fingertips. “Told anyone what?”

Antonio sighed, but didn’t clarify anything. He knew Lovino knew.

Eventually, came a quiet, but distinct, “…No.”

Antonio removed one hand to rub over Lovino’s shoulder. “That’s fine,” he said, and smiled as he felt Lovino relax.

“Hold on to me before you fall off,” he ordered.

Antonio did as he was told.

 

~/~

 

They arrived at the place Antonio had told Lovino about. It was a small park, distant from the vineyards and the town, and very secluded. There was only one other car near the sign, but they didn’t see any persons nearby. Lovino parked his motorcycle and set the kickstand. Antonio was the first to jump off, because though he didn’t say much, Lovino’s driving and the motorcycle secretly made him very nervous. His hands were slightly shaking.

“Why don’t you kiss the ground you idiot?” Lovino said as he took off his helmet.  He was staring at Antonio knowingly, silent amusement sparkling in his eyes.

Antonio laughed and scratched the back of his head. “In my defense, you don’t have a great track record.”

“Shut up,” Lovino muttered, and he unlatched the basket from the bike.

Antonio hurried over and grasped the handle. “I’ll take that!” he offered.

Lovino’s eyes darted to him, then to the floor. His cheeks warmed and he let go of the handle. “Lead the way, bastard. I don’t know where to go.”

Antonio smiled. “All right.”

 

~/~

 

“So what did you make?” Antonio asked curiously. He leaned close to Lovino to peer into the basket.

“S-stop it! Get out of the way,” he snapped, and nudged Antonio back with his elbow. Once Antonio was a satisfactory distance away, he replied, “I didn’t make anything fancy. Just cold pasta salad.”

“It sounds delicious!” Antonio exclaimed and laid down on the blanket, resting his chin in his hand.

Lovino rolled his eyes and continued unpacking. “You would’ve said that no matter what I made.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Lovino blushed, and knit his eyebrows together. “It’s stupid.”

Antonio caught sight of something unusual and sat up on both elbows. “Oh, what’s that?”

Lovino looked down, then glared at Antonio defensively. “What does it look like?”

“It looks like you brought wine,” Antonio smiled meaningfully and enjoyed Lovino’s reddening face. “That’s so romantic of you, Lovi!”

“It is not! It’s Italian! It’s European! How the hell am I supposed to enjoy a meal without wine?” Lovino declared loudly and slammed the bottle rather roughly onto the blanket.

It rolled over to Antonio and he grabbed it and read. “Moscato bianco.” He turned to Lovino for an interpretation.

Lovino brought one knee to his chest and glanced down at the blanket. “It’s a white wine. It’s sweet and sparkling.”

Antonio’s eyes glittered and he rose to his knees in a rush. “Lovino,” he called.

Lovino slowly lifted his head, and immediately Antonio grabbed the sides of his face and kissed him. It was swift and quick, and Antonio retracted after only a few seconds.

“That was so sweet of you,” Antonio cooed and hugged him very tight.

Lovino didn’t react at first. He was very stunned. Then something kicked in, and his hands were on Antonio’s shoulders, already pushing him away. “Dam—get off of me, you idiot. It’s just wine.”

Antonio released Lovino from the hug. “Can I try it?”

“…Sure,” Lovino replied softly, and he reached around Antonio for the bottle, bottle-opener, and glass. He opened it expertly and poured a medium amount, then handed it to Antonio wordlessly. He glared at Antonio’s smile.

Antonio took a sip, still smiling. “Wow, it’s good!”

“Don’t act so surprised,” Lovino replied dryly. “It makes you seem like a novice.”

“But I am,” Antonio chuckled and set the cup down in the ground, digging it in so it wouldn’t tip over.

Lovino pursed his lips and brought his knee to his chest again. His fingers tapped at his leg, and Antonio knee he was about to say something. He always started fidgeting before he did.

“S-so,” Lovino started suddenly, and his face flushed in embarrassment.

“Yes,” Antonio encouraged and shifted so that he sat next to Lovino.

Lovino bit his lip. “I was on the phone with my grandpa the other day. We were talking about business and shit,” he said hurriedly and ran his fingers through his hair. “And we were talking about planting a new crop of grapes sometime soon. A-and he mentioned something about a Spanish variety…” his voice trailed off, and his fingers gripped his jeans.

Antonio waited for him to finish patiently.

“And I was wondering i-if you knew of any,” Lovino mumbled weakly. He inhaled and closed his eyes violently. “I know you don’t drink wine and whatever, but Feliciano must have blabbed about you to _nonno_ , because he was telling me how I should ask you.”

This was very surprising. Lovino never talked about work with him. He never talked about his family really. Antonio’s stomach fluttered, and he felt so happy all of a sudden. His grin broadened, but since Lovino was looking everywhere but at him, he turned towards the horizon.

“Well, you’re right. I don’t know anything about wine,” Antonio laughed lightly. “But my parents know quite a lot. My father really liked this wine called Marques de Riscal Gran Reserva. I think it’s really expensive. And it was made of a few different grapes. Tempranillo, Graciano, and something else…” Antonio pursed his lips in thought. “And I think whatever my mother drank had Tempranillo in it too. She drank a lot of Bodegas.” He felt Lovino’s eyes on him, and he turned to the side. “What is it?”

Lovino’s eyes gleamed a sharp gold. “Have you…talked to your parents recently?”

At once, Antonio thought of all of the possible lies. And the best ones always began with some truth. “I have,” he began easily, still smiling. “We didn’t talk for long though. They told me my sister’s going back to Spain.”

“Is that all?” Lovino asked.

Antonio’s eyes focused on something far away. The conversation. All of the loud Spanish words; it was strange to hear Spanish in anger. It didn’t seem to fit.

“Yes, that was about it,” Antonio responded a moment too late. He was quick to recuperate though. “But Isabella sent me pictures of her wedding and it seemed so beautiful! I should show you the pictures. I feel like you would like Brazil. Or maybe not. It seems a bit like Spain. I don’t know if it’s sophisticated enough for you—”

Lovino grabbed his shirt sleeve roughly, and stared at him straight in the eye. “Stop lying to me,” he ordered.

Antonio glanced at him, and couldn’t help but smile. “I’m not lying.”

“You’re avoiding the truth. It’s the same thing,” Lovino argued, and his voice raised.

“Then what about you?”

Lovino raised an eyebrow, and loosened his grip. “What are you talking about?”

“You lie all the time,” Antonio said and he reached behind Lovino’s head and grasped his hair.

“No, I don’t.” Lovino glared at him, but heat rose to his cheeks and his ears.

Antonio leaned closer until Lovino fell back onto the blanket. He set his hands on either side of his head. “I don’t think you can even help it. You just do it automatically.”

Lovino’s eyes were wide with fear, and Antonio knew it was because he hated being scrutinized. He was unaccustomed to this sort of attention. “D-damn it, don’t act like you know me! I say whatever the hell I want!"

For once, Antonio wasn’t smiling, and his eyes looked at Lovino somewhat sadly.

It was such a transparent lie. Of course Lovino didn’t say what he wanted. He hardly did what he wanted either. It was obvious. He’s just like how Antonio was a few years ago. He’s afraid of society, and what they’ll say about him. He’s afraid of his family, though he has no reason to be. He’s afraid of disappointing people. He’s afraid of rejection. He’s afraid of being the outcast. He’s afraid of being alone.

Antonio felt a hand on his face, and it brushed gently over his cheekbone. Lovino was looking at him with concern, his eyes soft.

“What’s wrong?” he asked quietly, and his hand stayed on Antonio’s face.

Antonio looked at him and smiled. He grasped Lovino’s hand and pushed it back against the blanket.

Lovino tensed up and held his breath as Antonio leaned in close.

“I know you don’t say what you want.  I know you lie most of the time. I was slow to understanding your face, but I think I can see it now,” he explained. “So you don’t need to say anything if you don’t want to. You don’t need to lie. If you want me to kiss you, just show me. If you want me to keep holding you, then don’t let go. That’s enough.”

Lovino’s eyes were shining, and he looked so frightened and moved that he was going to cry. But he didn’t. His free hand reached for Antonio’s face, and slowly, guided him down. He didn’t know if it counted as a kiss he initiated or not, but to Antonio it didn’t matter.

His lips were on Lovino’s, and Lovino wanted to kiss him. He admitted it. In his own way, he did. And it shot adrenaline through Antonio’s veins. He felt invigorated and thrilled, and too happy for his own good. Lovino was so warm, and his lips were gentle, but secretly passionate—like he was trying to show affection, but was afraid to show how much. It was endearing and infuriating, because though Antonio tried his best to be patient, he was desperate to know. He needed to know what Lovino thought of him. If there was a chance that Lovino loved him half as much as he did him. Or if it’s just a silly, romantic dream.

Lovino broke the kiss and stared at Antonio silently. His eyes tender. “What about you?” he asked, his voice breathy. “H-how am I going to get you to tell the truth?”

“If,” Antonio began, and his eyes flitted over Lovino’s face. “If you really want to know, and you care…I’ll tell you anything.”

Heat rushed to Lovino’s cheeks and his fingers curled near his mouth. His eyes looked away. Very softly, Antonio almost didn’t hear, Lovino admitted, “I care.”

Antonio guided Lovino’s face back to him with his hand and looked him in the eye. “Then I’ll tell you anything.”

It was a surprise when Lovino’s lips turned up in a small smile, and before he kissed Antonio, he mumbled, “You’re so stupid.”

They drank wine and ate cold pasta for hours in the afternoon. They didn’t talk much. There was some unspoken agreement that they’d talk about important things later. Instead, they did useless things. “Antonio-like” things, Lovino would call them. They watched the clouds, made jewelry out of flowers—Antonio made a new ring for Lovino. And they asked random questions here and there.

And towards the end of the day, near sunset, when Antonio held Lovino, Lovino didn’t let go.

 

~/~

 

Feliciano swung his legs to and from the edge of the chair. It smelled sterile and medicine-y as usual, but that’s not very much of a surprise. And though his palms were sweating and his chest still hurt with every other breath, he was smiling in anticipation. 

There was a knock at the door, and his heart stopped.

“Come in!” Feliciano called.

The door opened slightly, and it was a familiar face that walked through the door. He was staring down at a clipboard, his eyebrows were knit seriously. Then he looked up.

“ _Ciao_ Ludwig! Long time no see!” Feliciano exclaimed with an excited wave.

Recognition flashed across Ludwig’s blue eyes and he pinched his nose. “Oh, it’s you again.” The door shut behind him, and he moved to the countertop.

“Yep! How’ve you been?” Feliciano asked.

The question seemed to catch Ludwig off guard, but he quickly cleared his throat and looked down at the clipboard. “Just fine. But I’m here to ask you that.”

Feliciano smiled and he looked at the door. “Is Dr. Edelstein coming?”

“She’ll be here shortly. I’m going to ask you some questions in the meantime.”

“You’re not a real doctor, right?” Feliciano asked curiously. Ludwig certainly looked like a real doctor. He could pass as one any day of the week.

The question seemed to annoy Ludwig, and he pressed his lips together. “No, not yet. I’m still a student. I’m shadowing Dr. Edelstein this summer.”

“Have you always wanted to be a doctor?”

“Yes.”

“Is it really hard?”

“…Sometimes.”  

“What kind of doctor do you want to be?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Well, what do you like to—”

“Excuse me,” Ludwig interrupted, and he appeared strangely flustered. “I’m supposed to be the one asking the questions.

Feliciano giggled and apologized, “Ve~ I’m sorry!”

Ludwig straightened his tie and glanced down at the clipboard. “Now then, have how long have you been taking the prescribed medication?”

“A week now,” Feliciano answered.

“And how often?”

“Three times a day.”

Ludwig scribbled something down. “And have your symptoms decreased, increased, or stayed about the same?”

“Hm, about the same? Maybe they’ve decreased a little bit,” Feliciano replied honestly, his eyes to the ceiling.

Ludwig frowned in concern. “Well, that’s not good. Dr. Edelstein will have to take a look at that.”

“What do you do for fun?” Feliciano asked suddenly, and his eyes sparkled. “You look like the type of person that would have funny hobbies.”

Ludwig blushed and he gripped the clipboard angrily. “I do not have _funny_ hobbies.”

“Do you like animals?”

“Why would you ask that?” Ludwig looked at him suspiciously.

Feliciano shrugged his shoulders. “You look like the type of person who does!”

Ludwig glanced to the side. “I…just got a puppy.”

“Oh really?!” Feliciano grinned ecstatically. “What kind?”

“A golden retriever. I found it on the street, and it wouldn’t leave me alone,” Ludwig grumbled embarrassed, and he seemed very conflicted. “So I brought it home. His name is Berlitz.”

“That’s so cute! I’m sure he must be so happy!” Feliciano squealed. “Does Gilbert like dogs too?”

Ludwig paled slightly. “Um, he does…but he doesn’t know about Berlitz. The landowner doesn’t allow pets, so I’m keeping him hidden.”

“Wow, you’re a bit of a rebel, aren’t you?” Feliciano teased, still smiling.

“I am not,” Ludwig replied indignantly.

“I think you are,” Feliciano laughed, but it suddenly turned into a cough, and he bent over his knees.

Ludwig jumped to his feet and laid a hand on Feliciano’s back. “Are you all right?”

Feliciano tried to stifle his coughs and smile at him. “It’s just a cough, Luddy! Don’t worry!”

“It’s not just a cough. If you’re not careful it could wor— _excuse me_?” Ludwig bristled, and his cheeks turned pink again. “My name is Ludwig. I don’t have any nicknames.”

“Aw, that’s no fun,” Feliciano coughed again, this time weaker, and softer.

Ludwig grimaced, and decided it was best not to argue anymore. He returned to the counter and picked up his clipboard.

“What does Berlitz do when you’re at work?” Feliciano asked.

“I don’t know. I can’t take him with me, so I have to leave him at the apartment,” Ludwig sighed.

Feliciano thought for a moment, and his heartbeat picked up. “Would you like me to watch over him sometimes?”

“What?” Ludwig turned around and stared at him.

“It’d be no problem! I can stop by sometimes and play with him, and feed him, and walk him. I don’t mind!” Feliciano said, his smile sincere.

“Oh, well that’s,” Ludwig looked away and he appeared to be struggling with the words. “That’d be very helpful actually. Thank you.”

“Ve~ no problem!” Feliciano replied happily. Ludwig met his eyes, and he winked. “You can make it up to me later.”

Ludwig scoffed. “What the hell is that supposed to mea—”

Elizaveta burst through the door, and announced her arrival. “Hello everyone! So sorry I’m late! It seems like half of the town has the nerve to be sick this month,” she joked and glanced between Feliciano and Ludwig. “Oh, did I interrupt something?”

“Ye—”

“No, not at all,” Ludwig cut in, and handed Elizaveta the clipboard. “I’m going to ask the nurse if there’s anything I should be doing.”

“Wait, Ludwig! Don’t you need my number?” Feliciano called after him.

He stopped in his tracks, and his ears were red. Slowly he said, “I’ll find it in your file.”

He slipped out the door, and Feliciano laughed.

  
~/~

After the appointment, Feliciano drove himself home. Tino was out on a date with Berwald, and he didn’t mind taking the drive by himself. Part of him wondered what Lovino got himself up to today. Feliciano didn’t get up until after twelve, and Lovino and his motorcycle were already gone. He wondered where he went.

He was in such a good mood driving home. Feliciano really hoped Ludwig would call him. There was something so interesting about him. He seemed scary at first, but there was also something endearing and shy about him. He was so cute! _Little Luddy.~_

It’d been a while since Feliciano had been in a relationship, but he had a feeling that he was starting to develop a small crush.

He giggled out loud and turned into the driveway. It was already close to dark. The sun had just set. Feliciano decided to stay in town for a while after his appointment and do a bit of shopping, so he ended up coming home much later than expected.

As he was waiting for the garage door to open, Feliciano glanced to the side. He thought he caught something, or someone, moving near the lemon tree. Maybe it was Antonio?

“Oh,” Feliciano gasped. It wasn’t just Antonio near the tree. It was Lovino too. They weren’t kissing, or hugging or anything, but the way Antonio was standing over Lovino, he was whispering very close in his ear. It looked different. And Lovino’s expression…It was strange. Everything seemed sort of…

_Intimate._

Feliciano’s eyes widened, and he couldn’t help but grin. He didn’t let himself giggle until he was safely parked in the garage. Then he went over the scene in his head. Was it an accident? It didn’t seem so. Lovino was far away, and hidden in the darkness and the shade of the tree, but by the look of his body language, he didn’t seem unhappy. And they were so close…

Feliciano’s spirits lifted and it appeared that the awkwardness of Lovino these past several days fit together.

Could it be that after all of this time, Lovino and Antonio were finally together?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah :'D About that wait...it was unintentional, I swear. Life kind of piled up on me: sorority stuff, college stuff, internship stuff, job stuff, and I just started counseling on top of that. It's been a bit of a roller coaster semester *laughs* but I finished final exams, and I have a LONG, long break ahead of me. It's my goal to finish Tesoro Mio before New Year's. I hope I can succeed xD 
> 
> In any case, thank you so, so much for having patience with me. Thank you for the comments, and kudos, and everything...it's all just so wonderful. I was really worried about starting/writing this chapter in general, because I had so much to live up to after that scene last chapter xD I hope this was okay. Hopefully, the next will be better. Oh, and if you need something to read in the meantime, I wrote a twoshot called Before the Snow Falls for The Goliath Beetle as part of our gift exchange. Check it out if you're bored haha xD
> 
> Long story short, thank you so much for reading. I really appreciate it.


	9. Sangiovese

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A summer storm. There are red roses and a straw hat, a puppy, an infatuated German, a careless American, and one terrified Italian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added a few more tags, but I'll repeat them here:  
> Warning for references of child abuse, and homophobic thoughts and comments.
> 
> I hope this chapter turned out okay. The struggle was real.

Pulling into the Jean d’Arc estate, Antonio noticed several differences. The front garden was still neat, tidy, and filled extravagantly with roses - oh, so many variety of roses - but there were other, newer elements too. There were some vegetable plants. Some fruit trees: still very young. A simpler, fresher aura filled the empty space that existed before, so it was no longer a dream from Alice in Wonderland - where Francis did whatever he wished with no care in the world. It looked more like a…home.

Antonio smiled, and after receiving the go ahead to drive through the gate, he parked his bike, set the kickstand and rushed to the front door.

One knock, two, barely three, and the door was swung open. Antonio tumbled into Francis’s arms.

“Ah, _mon cher_! It’s been too long!” Francis cooed, and he wrapped himself around Antonio’s laughing body. “Gilbert, get over here and say hello to Toni!”

“I was just opening a beer! Give me a minute,” Gilbert yelled back. It sounded like he was in the kitchen.

Francis frowned and muttered, “That selfish ingrate.” Then he turned his attention back to Antonio and hugged him tighter. “Oh, but at least you’re here, Toni. The only other romantic soul. We’ll keep each other company until the very end!”

Antonio couldn’t stop laughing. He’d spent so much time with silent Kiku, and stoic Berwald, he’d forgotten how ridiculous his friends were; he wasn’t used to it.

“Come here, let me look at you. Let’s see what damage the sun did this time,” Francis said seriously, and he held up Antonio’s grinning, tan, albeit also sun-burned, face. Francis melted. “Well, when you smile like that, you just look too cute!” He kissed him twice on the cheek, and hugged him again.

They heard Gilbert groan from the other room, followed by his heavy footsteps. “Fine, _verdammt_. Since you guys are already making out here,” he grumbled, but immediately flashed a devious smile, and joined their group hug with wicked strength.  

Yes, Antonio had really missed his friends.

 

~/~

 

After they could finally unlatch themselves, Francis directed them to the living room, and Antonio settled in one of the armchairs. Gilbert was chugging his third beer, and Francis was nursing his second glass of wine. Antonio settled with lemonade and grapes; he felt like a child in a room of adults (well, maybe teenagers), but he didn’t care. He was in too much of a good mood to care about such little things.

They were all alone this weekend. Matthew was back in San Francisco, Jeanne was meeting her grandparents for their something-or-other anniversary, and Lovino was in Los Angeles on business. They hadn’t really talked together since Francis’s last intervention, which Antonio remained oblivious about; and today, he was debating whether to bring up his recent romance with Lovino. One of the things stopping him was whether it actually counted as a romance. It did, right?

“So you won’t believe what happened the other day,” Gilbert said, his eyes gleaming, and his voice smooth with alcohol.

Francis rolled his eyes already, and Antonio looked at him expectantly.

“So I closed up the bar, and I might’ve had a few too many drinks, and I accidentally stumbled into Ludwig’s room. And guess what I found?”

“A woman!”

“Beer?”

“ _Psh_ —can you see Ludwig with a woman?” Gilbert chuckled, and bent over his knee. “ _Mein gott_ , I would want to see the look on his face. That’d be great. But no—he had a fucking dog in there!”

“Really?” Francis’s eyes widened.

“Aw, that’s so cute!” Antonio smiled.

Gilbert pursed his lips. “No, it’s not. Our damn building doesn’t allow pets, and Ludwig knows that. So I grabbed the puppy and yelled at him, and he said it belonged to a friend of his, and he was just dogsitting it for the night.”

“Oh, which friend?” Francis asked curiously.

“Um, damn, what is his name…,” Gilbert trailed off and tapped the side of his beer bottle. Suddenly, he snapped his fingers. “Oh! It’s that brat’s brother! The Italian one. But he’s happy, and he talks a million words per minute.”

At this, Antonio sat up. “You mean Feli?”

“Right! Yeah, that’s him,” Gilbert agreed. “He came by the next day and apologized for leaving his dog there overnight. He said it was his fault and not… _Luddy’s._ ”

Francis almost spat out his wine, and covered his mouth as he laughed. Antonio giggled and toppled over the armrest.

“That’s so cute!” Antonio sang. He sang it over and over again.

“Wow, your darling little brother has finally been broken,” Francis announced dramatically.

“I didn’t know Lovi and Feli got a puppy,” Antonio added to the conversation.

“Well, Feli said he got it recently. He found it on the street. Although, I think he and Ludwig named it, because it’s called Berlitz,” Gilbert said dryly.

At that, Francis’s eyes twinkled. “Are you saying it’s _their_ dog?”

“Well yeah, what the hell does it sound like I’m saying?”  

“No, Gilbert,” Francis tapped his friend’s shoulder and looked him in the eye. They shared a long stare.

Finally, Gilbert appeared to understand what was unsaid and sighed, “ _Ooh_.” Then he laughed again. “I’m not sure about that. Ludwig’s too sexually repressed for anyone. I think he’s a monk.”

“Surely, you don’t mean that. Even a rock like Ludwig can fall in love,” Francis replied.

“Fall in love with Feli?” Antonio repeated.

Francis nodded his head.

“Oh,” he said. Antonio’s mind began turning. Something about the situation worried him. Ludwig falling in Feli is just fine, and if Feli falls in love with him, well, that’s fine too. But why was there a nagging sensation at the corner of his brain telling him that Lovino wouldn’t like it? It made his smile disappear.

“That’s right! Antonio, we haven’t asked you yet,” Francis began smoothly, calling Antonio’s attention. “Have you and the little Italian…progressed?” He said the last word so delicately, as if stepping over Antonio’s heart.

And perhaps he was. But Antonio smiled anyway. Because there was progress. There was. “ _Si_ ,” he replied dreamily. “After I confessed to him, we’ve been hanging out a lot more.”

“Now when you say hanging out, do you mean like fuc—”

Francis cut him off swiftly. “ _Mon dieu,_ Gilbert. You really have no tact. Of course, when he says hangout he really means making sweet love to one ano—”

“No, no! Not that either,” Antonio interrupted hurriedly, laughing nervously. He ran his hand threw his hair. “I don’t think Lovino…Well—how do I put it,” Antonio paused. “He’s very…cautious. We spend time together like we haven’t before. And we, you know, kiss and all that,” Antonio chuckled, his cheeks warming. “But he’s not—he’s not, um… _mierda_ , how do I put it?”

Francis and Gilbert wouldn’t save him, so he had to think of a better phrasing on his own.

“I guess what I’m saying is that I don’t think Lovino really knows how he feels about me. He seems kind of confused,” Antonio finished sadly, though he was smiling.

Francis and Gilbert exchanged a look, and Francis set down his wine glass.

“Well, Toni. I can’t say I’m very surprised. I always suspected the Lovino had some problems,” he said simply.

Antonio pressed his lips together and buried his head in his knees. “It’s just—I’m really confused too. I don’t know what’s going on. Lovino doesn’t seem to want to tell anyone about what’s going on. But he still lets me be with him. I don’t really know what this means.”

Gilbert stared at the ceiling and thought hard for some insightful words. “Well…if the brat really didn’t want to be with you. I think it’d already be clear by now.”

Antonio lifted his head, and waited for more.

“And if someone as stubborn and obstinate as him lets you _kiss_ him… _multiple times_ …well, that sure as hell means something.”

Antonio looked at him, letting the words sink in. Then he turned to Francis.

Francis just sighed. He really disliked encouraging a relationship he disapproved of. But perhaps honesty would help. “I agree with Gilbert, Toni. Take it from me, _le roi de l’amour_ , that Lovino likes you. Jeanne think so too.”

“She does?” Antonio murmured in wonder. Other people think Lovino likes him? Does that mean it could be true? Antonio thought so sometimes, even more so lately, but he was never sure. He was always doubtful. Always waiting to be proven wrong and take a step backwards.

“But,” Francis added, closing his eyes, almost in pain. “Jeanne told me he’s also rather…religious. And that’s probably wherer some of the problem lies. At least in part.”

Antonio flushed shamefully, somewhat reminded of his childhood. “Yeah, I figured he was uncomfortable with homosexuality. If it comes up, he tends to avoid the subject,” he said and looked to the side. “D-do you guys think Lovino’s gay?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Francis and Gilbert echoed in perfect unison, their expressions serious.

Antonio’s lipped broadened into a smile traitorous smile. “I thought so too.”

Gilbert chuckled, and took another swig of his beer.

France’s face was still anxious. “But you know he’ll have trouble admitting it, right? That’s the problem.”

Antonio stared at him levelly, a growing confidence sharpening his eyes. “I know,” he said.

“Let me guess. You think you can change his mind about the whole thing,” Gilbert proposed airily.

“Well, I’ve had a lot of experience,” Antonio responded playfully, his voice increasingly sure.

Francis’s brows were still knit together. He was gnawing his bottom lip in worry.

“Francis,” Antonio called his attention, and their eyes met. Antonio grinned. “Don’t worry. I’m from the country of passion. I’ll convince him eventually.”

Despite himself, and all of his worries, Francis couldn’t help but laugh. Maybe it was the wine.

But then Gilbert and Antonio laughed too. Perhaps they were all drunk, even Antonio. He may not drink wine or beer, but he’s definitely intoxicated with Lovino.

 

~/~

 

It was wonderful to spend time with his friends, but at the end of the day, when Antonio had to ride home, groom the vines, make dinner, and get into bed—he was lonely again. Just knowing that Lovino wasn’t there somehow made him lonelier. The balcony was dark, so Antonio didn’t even have a light to look to. His star was gone. 

But three days had passed already. Lovino would be home tomorrow night. Antonio had grand romantic plans to woo him; it made his heart race with excitement. It was like the night before Navidad. He was too excited. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep.

But it didn’t matter. His thoughts kept him company, and more and more, he felt the growing power of love surge through his veins. Winning over Lovino was like fighting a bull. Antonio had to be graceful, charming, and respect Lovino like no one else. And somehow, Antonio would overcome the hardheadedness, the stubbornness, the irrational fear. He would be as romantic as possible, and he knew he’d win.

 

~/~

 

The next day, after lunch when everyone took a little break, Antonio asked if he could borrow Berwald’s car. He needed to go into town for a bit, and the ride was rather far for his poor, little bike. Of course, Berwald nodded yes, and Antonio at once dashed off to the car with the keys.

As he was rolling up the driveway, however, he stopped the car in front of Feliciano, who was walking a small, golden retriever.

When Feliciano saw him, he quickly ran up to the window and tapped the glass.

Antonio chuckled and rolled it down.

“ _Ciao_ Toni! I feel like I haven’t seen you in a long while!” Feliciano exclaimed happily.

“I guess so,” Antonio smiled. “I was just on my way to town. Do you need anything?”

Feliciano looked up. “No, I don’t think so. Although, maybe Lovino would want something,” he trailed off and his eyes widened. “You know he’s coming back tonight, right?”

Antonio laughed. “Yep, I know!”

Feliciano’s eyes glittered mischievously. “Are you going to town to get something for him?”

“Oh, um,” Antonio stuttered, caught off guard. “Well, just a little welcome home present maybe,” he replied  with a shy smile.

“Hmm~ I think Lovi will like that,” Feliciano said knowingly. It made Antonio nervous, but happy too. “Actually, would you like to have dinner with us? It’ll be a late dinner, like around eight, but it’ll be with Lovi!”

 _Si, si._ A million times _si._ That sounds wonderful. Familial. Loving.

“Ah,” Antonio dragged out a long chuckle and he stared at the ceiling. “I don’t think Lovino would like that,” he began. It was true. Lovino wouldn’t, and for more than one reason. Swiftly, he added, “I think he’d much rather spend time with you two tonight, I can always give him his present la—tomorrow.”

Feliciano pouted, but he didn’t seem too surprised. There was a subtle understanding in his eyes. It was comforting.

“Ve~ well, all right,” Feliciano conceded, and he left the open window with Berlitz trotting behind him. “Get something nice for Lovi! _Ciao_ Toni!”

 _“Adios!”_ Antonio called after him, and he steadily resumed his drive.

 

~/~

 

It all seemed like a good plan in his head. But now that he was standing in front of the Tulip Haven, Antonio was struck by a strange hesitation. Lovino said that he and Emma were never a real couple, and that seemed to be the case. And it’s possible that Lovino never felt too strongly about her, but Antonio was still able to sense the longing on Emma’s part. She truly cared for Lovino. Perhaps it would be awkward to buy a bouquet from her…

Before he could run away, the door opened and a bell chimed. Emma appeared before him, smiling, same as usual.

“Toni! What are you doing there, just standing outside? Come on in!” she ordered sweetly, and held the door open.

Antonio chuckled and nervously ran his palms over the front of his jeans, before walking inside. “ _Lo siento_ , Emma. I was lost in thought.”

“Hm, I could see,” she sang, and her eyes twinkled. “You seem excited today. Is something happening?”

Antonio’s heart fluttered, and he grinned lovingly without even knowing it. “Oh, well actually, Lovino’s coming back from a business trip today and I was—” he stopped and realized his mistake. Antonio coughed and resumed awkwardly, “I was just helping out with some of the welcome home gifts.”

Emma’s lashes fluttered and she gently pursed her lips. Antonio could see the wheels turning in her head, and he prayed to God that his face wasn’t as transparent as he thought it was right now. Lying was usually much easier. Why was it so hard to lie about Lovino? _Because I don’t want to lie. I want everyone to know._

“Well,” Emma hummed. “We have some fresh imports today. What sort of flower were you thinking?” She started leading him to a nearby aisle.

Antonio sighed in relief. “I was thinking roses.”

Emma’s lips quirked and she turned to him. “Roses?”

“Er—” he stalled, and thought quick. “That’s Lovino’s favorite flower! It’s his birth month flower!” Birth month flower? Was there such a thing? When was Lovino born anyway?

For a fraction of a second, Antonio could have sworn he saw a smirk slide across Emma’s face, but he blinked, and it was gone.

“All right then. What color do you prefer? We have yellow, pink, orange, red—”

“Red! Definitely red!” Antonio exclaimed.

“Okay,” Emma replied, and she plucked a few roses from a clear, plastic bag. “How many?”

Antonio opened his mouth to say a dozen, but his eyes couldn’t help but wander to the price-tag below. He winced at the sight of the numbers. Why were roses always so expensive?

“Uh, t-twelve please,” he answered, slightly reluctantly. He knew it’d be worth it. It was only money after all; and this was for something much more important.

“Of course,” Emma smiled gently, and she finished gathering twelve, pristine, red roses in her hand. “Do you want to follow me to the register?”

Antonio nodded, and skipped behind her. He shoved all of his remaining, crumpled bills onto the table with little regret. He just kept telling himself it would be worth it. It would.

Emma smoothed out the dollars with a soft smile, and deposited them into the register. Then she began wrapping the roses in a clear plastic wrap around the base and took out a ribbon.

“So…” Antonio looked around. “How have you been lately?”

Emma giggled lightly and began tying the ribbon. “Better, I think. Much better,” she said, and met Antonio’s eyes. “Thank you for asking.”

Antonio grinned bashfully, unsure of what he had done. He was happy that Emma seemed happy at least.

When the roses were done and tied, Emma handed them over to Antonio, who in turn looked at them as if they were his newborn child. His green eyes filled with such wonder and hope.

Emma held onto the flowers, as Antonio grasped them. She lowered her voice to a whisper, “You know red roses are lover’s roses, right?”

A spark flit through Antonio’s eyes, and he couldn’t control the smile. “I know,” he replied gently, and removed the roses from her grasp. “ _Gracias_ , Emma.”

She looked at him coolly. She was smiling, and it looked genuine, but her eyes still shimmered a bit sadly. Before either of them could comment she picked up some new violets in need of trimming. “Tell Lovino I said hi, would you?” she sniffed and began plucking leaves.

Antonio’s gaze softened and he held the flowers tenderly. “I will.”

No one else appeared eager to say anything more, and Antonio slipped out the door. The bell chimed behind him.

 

~/~

 

Lovino’s flight didn’t arrive until late in the afternoon, but he arrived at the San Francisco airport, so by the time he was back at the house, it was already eight o’clock. Feliciano pushed dinner back an hour so he’d have time to prepare.

It was strange to be back. Somehow three days felt like three years. He felt so disconnected. And maybe one of the reasons kind of has to do with Antonio. The bastard had a cellphone, but they never exchanged numbers, so it’s not like when Lovino travels he’s spammed with emojis or whatever Antonio would write. It’s just silence. Silence and work for three days, interspersed with vivid, worrisome dreams in between. He blushed just thinking about them. He tried his best to forget them as soon as he remembered. They were too embarrassing and strange and…exhilarating.

But that didn’t mean he wanted home to change while he was gone. It was raining when Feliciano pulled into the driveway, and it was still raining during dinner. A summer storm. What were the odds?

Normally, Lovino would’ve welcomed a storm - given anything for the rain - but now, after what happened, a small part of him was worried that the rain would wash everything away. Where would Antonio be if it was raining? It simply didn’t suit him.

“Lovi, are you tired? You haven’t eaten much,” Feliciano commented.

Lovino tore his eyes away from the kitchen, and met Feliciano’s. “Oh, yeah, I guess I am. It’s been a long three days,” he replied dryly. “Maybe I’ll just go to my room.” Lovino got up and pushed his chair into the table.

“Are you sure?” Tino asked, and his eyes crinkled in concern.

“Yeah,” Lovino said, and he was already walking towards the stairs. “I just feel like lying down for a while.”

“Maybe I’ll stop by with dessert later!” Feliciano called.

Lovino nodded, though he was far out of view, and at the top of the stairs. He barely acknowledged the offer. The rain drained him. He had so much hope coming back, and the rain disillusioned him from his dreams. Not that he liked them of course. But sunlight was kind of nice.

His suitcase was laid out on the floor, open and slightly messy. Lovino tried to unpack before dinner, but really, he fished out one particular object and obsessed about it for an hour. He picked up the simple straw hat, lying at the top of his pile of folded clothes, and turned it over.

He bought it on impulse. It’s not like it was planned or anything. He wasn’t even sure _why_ he bought. Lovino was walking around, after several meetings with buyers, and he was at a nice outdoor shopping mall. There was a kiosk, which he normally would’ve ignored just on principle, but the straw hat stood out to him. It was like at once he could see Antonio’s bright, green eyes and wide smile. He could see Antonio’s sun-burnt face and rough hands. And for some reason he could see Antonio with that hat. And he bought it.

But what was he supposed to do with it now? Lovino flushed scarlet at the very thought of handing it over to Antonio. What would he say? He would be so ridiculously happy, he would say anything—everything. But what would it say about Lovino? A present…that’s like a romantic gesture. But Lovino bought it for Antonio, so he couldn’t very well keep it, right?

As he was lying sprawled on the bed, holding the hat above him, he heard a few clumsy footsteps. There was a gentle roar of rain echoing outside, so at first Lovino thought he’d mistaken the sound, but then there were more footsteps and something like a knock. So he dropped the hat on the floor beside his bed, and shuffled to the balcony door.

He saw Antonio standing near the glass door, his wet head visibly plastered to his forehead, and his clothes much in the same condition. Lovino was already blushing, but when he caught Antonio’s meek smile, he covered his face with his hands. It was too much for him. It was embarrassing and stupid, and infuriatingly charming. And he hated Antonio for it. Really.

But it’s not as if he could let Antonio stand out there all night (it’s doubtful that’d actually make him leave), so slowly, whilst making a clear show of how much effort this was taking out of him, Lovino walked to the door, unlocked it, and pulled it open.

A gust of cold and wet air flew by and he shivered.

“Hello, Lovi. _Bienvenudo a casa_ ,” he said smilingly. And despite the wet clothes, and the rain, and the night chill, Antonio’s voice was still warm.

Lovino crossed his arms and looked down. “Thanks,” he muttered. His foot tapped and he fought an internal debate. “Um,” he began and darted his eyes to Antonio’s patient face. “D-do you want to come in?”

Antonio’s lips split into a grin. “I’d love to see your bedroom!”

“Damn it! Don’t say it like that!” Lovino snapped, and he shoved Antonio on his way in. He kept grumbling, but shut the door behind him. When he turned around, Antonio was gazing at the walls with avid curiosity.

Lovino was going to yell at him for it, but then he caught sight of something behind Antonio’s back. “What’s that?” he asked.

“What?” Antonio repeated, and he followed Lovino’s gaze to the object he was hiding. “Oh!” he gasped, and quickly held them forward. “They’re for you!”

Twelve red roses. Shimmering with raindrops, and tied with a red ribbon.

Lovino couldn’t say anything. His face was heating up with every passing second. “Oh…I, um—th-that’s…those a-are for…m-me?” he stuttered quietly. 

Antonio eye’s glittered, and he stepped closer, so he could pass the bouquet over. “Of course,” he murmured.

Lovino glanced at him, then at the floor, then at the flowers. “Th-they’re nice. Thank you.” His lips turned up ever so slightly, and Antonio was quick to notice it.

“Aw, Lovi, you’re smiling,” he said, and brushed his hand over Lovino’s cheek.

Lovino bit his lip and began stalking towards his cupboard, in search of some sort of vase. “I am not, bastard.”

“Yes, you are!” Antonio insisted, and he wrapped his arms around Lovino from behind, and rested his head on Lovino’s shoulder. “I’ve missed you.”

Lovino’s breath hitched, and his hands trembled in their grip of the bouquet. “I…” he started. “I k-kind of…too.”

Antonio’s laughter tickled his neck, and he would’ve yelled at him for it, but turned him around fast, so he could envelope Lovino in a kiss.

Lovino wrapped his arms around Antonio’s back, because he had to protect the flowers, obviously, but he still didn’t stop Antonio from kissing him. He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t one of the things he missed. He was lonely during his trip. He had many meeting with several buyers and clients, and technically only had a few moments to himself. But there was something missing. They only wanted to talk to Lovino for business; they didn’t care for him. And it was lonely not being loved.

It was hard for him to believe that Antonio actually loved him, so when he was kissed, it was like being reminded, and it made his heart swell in happiness. Antonio’s lips were always chapped by the sun, and his hands were hard, but they way he held Lovino was always so careful. He was passionate, but he was gentle.

Antonio broke the kiss and gazed down at Lovino face. “So do you really like the flowers?

Lovino’s eyes were soft, and slightly dazed, but he still managed to knit his eyebrows in frustration. “What do you think?”

Antonio chuckled and kissed Lovino’s lips again, this time quickly, and returned to hugging him. “Aw, Lovi. I really have missed you. It hasn’t been the same here without you.”

Lovino flushed from his cheeks to his ears. “I doubt that.”

Antonio held the back of Lovino’s head and laughed again. “You’re just like your roses now,” he pointed out.

Lovino’s free hand flew to his cheeks and he glared. “Damn it, bastard! No, I’m not!”

“But you are!” Antonio exclaimed, and he removed Lovino’s hand so he could hold it and admire Lovino’s blush. “Your face is so honest.”

Adrenaline pulsed through Lovino’s veins and he didn’t know whether he wanted to laugh or scream, Antonio was so infuriating. “No, it is—”

His voice died in his throat when he heard footsteps climbing the stairs. The wood of the house was old so there was a slight creak with each step. It must have been Feliciano on his way to stop by.

“Lovino?” Antonio called worriedly, and his thumb rubbed over Lovino’s hand.

Lovino turned to him wide-eyed. “Um, Feliciano’s on his way,” he muttered quickly. “You have to, um—damn it.” His eyes darted everywhere in his room for a place to hide Antonio. He couldn’t send him back out in the rain. “Come here,” he ordered, and he dragged Antonio across the room. He opened the door to his closet, and pointed inside. “Just hide in here, and I’ll try to get Feliciano to leave as quickly as possible.”

Antonio froze. “Why?”

“What do you mean why? I just explained it to you. Just stand in here until Feliciano’s gone,” Lovino explained. He tugged on Antonio’s hand, but he still wouldn’t budge an inch.

“Why can’t I hide in the bathroom?” he asked, his voice calm, but slightly strained.

“Because Feliciano might look there! He’s always wandering around. But he never checks in here, so get in alr—”

“Lovino,” Antonio interrupted gravely. He stared at Lovino, his eyes hard. “I can’t go in there.”

Lovino was taken aback. He’d never seen this look on Antonio before. “Wh-why not?”

Antonio pressed his lips together, and it was as though his tan had suddenly faded. “I don’t like small spaces.”

There was a knock on the door, and Lovino jumped.

“Ve~ Lovi! May I come in?"

“Uh, just a second!” Lovino yelled back. He looked back at Antonio. “But you—”

“ _I can’t_ ,” Antonio stated, and he left no room for argument.

Lovino dropped his hand and pointed to the bathroom. “Go in there. I’ll make sure Feliciano doesn’t go in,” he whispered.

Antonio hurried over without a word, and shut the door quietly behind him.

Lovino’s shoulders dropped, and he walked over to open the bedroom door for Feliciano, but then caught sight of the roses. Quickly, he grabbed them and tossed them on the other side of the bed.

“Lovi!~” Feliciano called again, his voice sounded impatient, if also curious.

“Y-yeah! Come in already, damn it!” Lovino shouted back, and he pressed the back of his hands onto his cheeks, trying to cool them off.

Feliciano burst through, smiling wide. “ _Ciao_ Lovi! I brought some tiramisu for you!”

“Thanks,” he mumbled and sat down on the bed. “You can just leave it on the desk there. I think I’m going to go to bed.”

“What? Really?” Feliciano exclaimed, and he pouted. “But I had so much to tell you. I was hoping we could catch up.”

Lovino’s blush returned, when he thought of Antonio overhearing this conversation. “Yeah, really. I just feel like taking it easy tonight.”

Feliciano scrutinized him, his face unreadable. “Ve~ well, all right,” he replied eventually. Feli dropped the plate of Tiramisu on the desk, and grasped the doorknob. “Oh, but make sure to find Antonio soon. I think he got a present for you.”

Lovino’s heart skipped a beat and he unwittingly glared at the bathroom door. “I’m sure he got something stupid.”

“Aw, don’t say that. He looked so excited! Try to be nice to him, okay?” Feliciano said with a wink.

“Just go away, damn it,” Lovino muttered.

Feliciano giggled and slipped through the door. Once it shut, Lovino was on his feet, racing to the bathroom to confront Antonio.

The door wasn’t shut properly, so he pushed it open and peered inside. “Antonio? Feliciano’s gone.”

He was leaning against the tiled wall, his hands balled at his sides. His back rose and fell with every deep breath.

Lovino was stunned for a moment. He didn’t like seeing Antonio this way. But he figured he had to do something, right? So tentatively, Lovino approached him, and grasped one of Antonio’s rough fists in his smooth hand.

Antonio finally seemed to notice him, and he glanced away from the blank tiles to Lovino’s wide, amber eyes.

He smiled on instinct. “Is Feliciano gone?” he asked.

Was that sweat on his forehead? Lovino bit his lip and made a decision. He dragged Antonio by his hand out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. He guided Antonio to the bed and pushed him onto it. Antonio was much heavier of course, but he did as Lovino wanted and sat down on the edge of the mattress.

Lovino then grasped each side of Antonio’s face and held eye contact. “What was that?”

Antonio was still smiling. “What do you mean?”

“You know what,” Lovino snapped. “What made you…act like that?”

“I don’t know what you—”

“Antonio!” Lovino whispered harshly, careful not to raise his voice so that Feliciano or Tino could hear. “Listen to me, damn it. I want you to tell me the truth for once.”

Antonio watched him, his green eyes sharp. “I told you already. I don’t like small spaces.”

Lovino’s hands held him tight. “But _why?”_ It wasn’t very new or surprising to hear. It was obvious that if given the choice, Antonio always preferred to be outdoors than inside a home. But he’d never seen Antonio act so afraid.

Antonio sighed and his eyes drifted away. “It’s a silly reason. It happened a long time ago.”

“What happened?” Lovino pressed. He wasn’t going to let Antonio get away so easily.

“I, well, my parents…” he began, and suddenly broke into an awkward, weak laugh. “I was always in trouble for some reason. I wasn’t a very good kid to have. So sometimes, when my parents were really…angry, they would put me in time out.” He paused, and a smile crept back onto his face. “But I was always happy to be sent outdoors, or to my room where I had my pets. I didn’t mind going to bed without dinner either. I could usually sneak into the backyard for tomatoes or something.” His smile faded and his eyes looked faraway. “So, when I got to be too much for them, they would, um, lock me in a…closet. Like that one.”

Lovino stared at him, and he vaguely recognized that his eyes were stinging. “Oh,” he said. What else could he say?

Antonio smiled again. “It wasn’t that bad. It’s not like they hit me or anything. But that’s why,” he glanced at the closet. “I don’t like being in small spaces. It makes me uncomfortable.”

Lovino’s hands trembled slightly, and Antonio looked back at him.

“It’s okay, Lovi,” Antonio assured him. “It was a long time ago. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

_But it does. Of course it does. For so many reasons._

Lovino dropped his hands from Antonio’s face, and enveloped him in his arms. “I-I’m so sorry Antonio,” he mumbled, and a tear fell onto Antonio’s shirt. He was crying? Why was he crying?

It’s because Antonio wasn’t. It’s because Antonio can’t. It’s because, if Lovino hadn’t forced him, Antonio would’ve never brought it up. It’s because Antonio would listen to Lovino complain about his business troubles and stupid family soccer arguments all day, but would never willingly talk about his abuse, or family strife. He would rather make Lovino happy then let him share in his burden, and it’s…it’s…so goddamn infuriating.

“You idiot,” Lovino muttered against Antonio shoulder. Antonio was holding him too, and rubbing his back, as if to comfort him. “You need to tell me these things.”

“ _Lo siento_ , Lovi,” Antonio said, a smile evident in his voice. “I didn’t know it would make you this sad.”

“I’m not sad, damn it,” Lovino protested, and he pulled back to look Antonio in the eye. “I’m angry.”

Before Antonio could laugh, or grin, or do something stupid, Lovino kissed him. He could feel a few tears falling down his cheeks, but he ignored them and kept kissing him. He meant for it to be a demanding kiss, but even when he was angry, Lovino couldn’t kiss Antonio like that. He was comforting, warm, and kissed Antonio as if it was him crying and not Lovino.

An idea flickered through Lovino’s mind and he pulled away slowly, unlocking their lips. Antonio was looking at him tenderly, silently thanking him.

“Um,” Lovino breathed, interrupting the silence. He was still awkwardly leaning over Antonio. “I k-kind of have something…for you.”

Antonio’s eyes widened, genuinely surprised. “You do?” he asked, and a hopeful, excited grin spread across his lips. A real grin. “What for?”

“ _Tsk_ —does there have to be a reason?” Lovino snapped, but flushed when he realized the answer sounded even more stupid. Antonio’s hands soothingly ran through his hair. “I just saw it, and I thought you’d like it,” Lovino added quietly.

“Can I see it?” Antonio pleaded.

Lovino bit his lip, but moved away from Antonio anyway. And he walked over to the other side of the bed, where he threw the hat and the flowers. He could hear Antonio crawling over. He bent down and picked up the simple straw hat; he held it in his fingers and felt his ears grow more and more red. _This was stupid,_ he thought. _It’s just a dumb hat. Why the hell would I buy this? He won’t_ —

“Is that for me?” Antonio exclaimed loudly. He stretched his arms out, asking for the hat. “ _Es tan hermoso!_ Give it to me Lovino!”

“It’s just a dumb hat, bastard! No need to get so excited!” Lovino yelled, and threw the hat into Antonio’s arms.

Antonio giggled excitedly, and put the hat on. He pat it down on his damp, curly hair and smiled in Lovino’s direction. “How do I look?”

Lovino almost smiled, but managed a nonchalant glare. “Like a farmer.”

“Then it’s perfect!” Antonio said.

“I guess so,” Lovino mumbled as he picked up the bouquet of roses. He resumed his mission of finding some sort of makeshift vase for them. Maybe he had one lying around. He spotted the clear vase sitting by the windowsill with Feli’s flowers from last month, long-since wilted away, and picked it up. He walked towards the bathroom for water.

Antonio’s voice echoed into the room. “I’m going to wear this hat everyday, Lovi.~”

“Idiot. What if it’s windy?”

“I’ll tie it to my head.”

“What if you have to go to a fancy dinner?”

“I’ll find a suit to match.”

“Oh my god. You would, wouldn’t you?”

Antonio chuckled giddily.

Lovino finished filling the vase and walked back out with his bouquet safely stored inside. He set it on the windowsill, and turned around. Antonio was sitting on the bed smiling.

“Are you really okay?” Lovino asked shyly. He twisted his hands together as he watched Antonio’s expression soften.

“Of course, _mi amor_ ,” Antonio answered. The nickname made Lovino blush.

The rain continued outside, like a gentle hum.

“W-well, if you want, um—you can stay here. Until the rain stops,” Lovino offered, as he dug his nails into his palm. What was he doing?

“Really?” Antonio replied disbelievingly.

Lovino nodded, and stepped towards the bed. He sat on the edge and took off his shoes. “D-don’t get too comfortable though,” he ordered.

“Aw, Lovi,” Antonio cooed, and his arms snaked around Lovino’s waist. The hat hit against Lovino’s cheek. “But I’m so comfortable with you.”

“Don’t say stupid things,” Lovino muttered.

There was a pause. “Do you really think they’re stupid, Lovino?”

Lovino’s cheeks warmed. He didn’t know whether to lie, tell the truth, or not say anything at all. Quietly, he mumbled, “No.”

Antonio’s hands tightened around Lovino’s waist and pulled him onto the bed. He laughed so genuinely, Lovino laughed too.

 

~/~

 

“Lovino, why didn’t you tell me about the puppy?”

Lovino glanced up from his book. He squinted through the sunlight and made out Antonio’s face, shaded by his new hat. “What are you talking about?”

“The puppy. Feliciano got one, right?” Antonio said again.

Lovino narrowed his eyes. “Do you see a puppy around here?”

Antonio tilted his head and looked to the horizon. “Well that’s strange. Gilbert told me Feli got one.”

“What would that bastard know about anything?” Lovino rolled his eyes and returned to his book.

Antonio hummed in response, and a few empty seconds passed by. The wind stirred the pages of the book, but Lovino held them down.

“He said that Feli told him the puppy was his. And that he was sharing it with Ludwig,” Antonio continued.

Lovino frowned and gears started turning in his head. “Who the fuck is Ludwig?”

“Gilbert’s brother,” Antonio replied simply. He watched Lovino’s expression. “I think he and Feli are friends.”

Lovino pressed his lips together, and his blood boiled beneath his skin. “Feli would’ve told me if he was sharing a dog with the brother of your German-bastard friend.”

Antonio didn’t say anything. Gold sunlight reflected in his eyes and they were hard to read.

“Is there something else?” Lovino snapped impatiently. He closed his book and tossed it to the side; he’d lost interest in it.

“What if,” Antonio began. Lovino waited for him to finish, but Antonio closed his eyes and smiled. “Ah, nevermind,” he murmured, and laid back in the grass.

Lovino huffed in annoyance. He hated when Antonio would edit his thoughts, but there was nothing he could do; he knew Antonio wouldn’t tell him if he didn’t want to.

“Lovi,” Antonio called softly. “Take a siesta with me.”

Lovino’s cheeks flushed and he twisted his hands together anxiously. “Damn it, why are we so lazy?” he grumbled, but lied back onto the grass anyway. He faced Antonio, and frowned at his smiling face. “What?”

“Nothing,” Antonio answered smoothly, and brushed a lock of Lovino’s hair away from his eyes.

“Then why are you looking at me like that?” Lovino demanded, and his skin buzzed under Antonio’s touch.

Antonio’s eyes sparkled in amusement. “I always look at you like this,” he said. “But actually, I was wondering if you’d like to go out again.”

Lovino’s eyes widened, and his breath caught. “Oh.”

“And I was wondering if you’d like to go out for dinner, or something like that,” Antonio finished. His eyes searched Lovino’s face.

“O-oh, I, um,” Lovino stuttered nervously, and avoided meeting Antonio’s gaze. He could rationalize meeting with Antonio in a park, and outdoors, and on the balcony, because it was always private, and always secret. But meeting in town? With people? What would they say? What would Lovino say? It confused him just to predict it.

“Do you not want to?” Antonio asked gently.

Lovino stared at him, and he caught the faint hint of sadness in Antonio’s expression, it looked like disappointment. Lovino didn’t like that look on Antonio. He hated it. It tore at his heart. “N-no, I…” Lovino tried again. “Sure. Um, yeah.”

“Is that a yes?”

Lovino flushed and curled closer into himself. “Y-yeah,” he affirmed quietly.

“Okay,” Antonio replied, and his voice was lighter. He ran his hands through Lovino’s hair and over his warm cheeks. “ _Gracias,_ Lovi."

Lovino didn’t say anything. He closed his eyes and willed himself to fall asleep. He was embarrassed, confused, ashamed, and slightly happy about the date. But it still terrified him.

And then there was that comment about Feliciano ringing in his head; and that terrified him too.

 

~/~

 

Later that night, when Feliciano was singing random pieces of old Italian songs and stirring _risotto alla Milanese_ , Lovino was stewing at the dining room table. He was still thinking about what Antonio said.

“Feli,” Lovino called, and he picked a grape from the bowl sitting at the center of the table.

“ _Si_ , Lovi,” Feliciano replied.

“Who’s Ludwig?” Lovino asked, his voice low.

Feliciano paused his stirring momentarily, then giggled. “Oh, he’s a friend of mine. He’s studying under Elizaveta right now, so I met him at my appointment a few weeks ago.”

Lovino glared at his brother’s back. “And he’s Gilbert’s brother?” Lovino never really felt comfortable around Gilbert. He was strange and obnoxious, and a complete idiot; but that wasn’t really the problem, since half of the people Lovino was around were idiots. After, he found out that Gilbert was gay though…Well, maybe gay, maybe bi (he dated Elizaveta, didn’t he?), maybe whatever—it was never really clear. But he’s dating that wine critic from San Francisco, and ever since Lovino heard the news about it, he felt distinctly uncomfortable around him. And he doesn’t feel as though he can trust Gilbert’s brother either.

But Feliciano was laughing again, as if Lovino had said something funny. “He is, but Luddy is nothing like Gilbert. He’s so funny.~”

Lovino grimaced and turned away. “I heard you guys were sharing a dog.”

“Ve~ kind of. Luddy’s so nice. He found Berlitz on the street, and took him home. But his apartment complex doesn’t allow pets, so I’m helping him out.”

“Is the dog here now?” Lovino asked and darted his eyes around.

“Yep! Tino’s taking him for a walk. I’m giving him back to Ludwig soon though.”

Lovino rested his elbow on the table and stared at his brother’s back.

Maybe he was overreacting. Feliciano’s always been an affectionate friend, and he’s always loved animals and helping people out. Just because he’s dogsitting for some strange guy…

Yeah, it wasn’t Feliciano that worried Lovino. But a brother of Gilbert’s couldn’t be a good influence. Lovino wondered what Ludwig was doing with his brother.

**  
~/~**

 

The next day, Lovino told Antonio that he would meet him in town before dinner. He told him that he had a few errands to run, and didn’t want to drag him around the stores, but by the look in Antonio’s eyes, Lovino didn’t fool him. At least not completely.

Lovino had no errands to run, but he did need to go somewhere. He went to church. It was empty, and cold—and Lovino was eternally grateful that it was. He didn’t want any strangers lingering around, or any nuns and priests; he just wanted to be alone with God. Because he needed Him right now.

So, Lovino found the furthest pew he could find - away from the doors and the windows - and kneeled down. In his head he prayed.

_Dear God,_

_You probably already know why I’m here. I’m just…I’m really confused. I…thought I knew what was right, and what I should do, but lately, I can’t seem to figure it out anymore._

_People confuse me. All of them, including myself. I just can’t seem to figure out what’s right and wrong anymore, and I can’t remember what I believe._

_I thought I hated Antonio. I thought that’s what I felt. I thought that’s what I should’ve felt, and what you wanted me to feel. But I just…can’t hate him. I can’t. And it scares me that I can’t, because I know I like him more than I should. And I think he likes me more than he should too._

_He’s not going to get in trouble, is he? I really don’t want him too. He’s an idiot, and a bastard, but he’s also nice. He’s a lot nicer than I am. And he has a lot less reason to be._

_…Is it really bad to be with him? I mean—maybe sometimes it’s bad to be gay, but it can’t be like that with Antonio, right? Right?_

_I really hope it’s okay. B-because I don’t know how much longer I can push him away. I want to do the right thing, but it’s just…if it’s Antonio, I…_

_I don’t know if I can do it._

 

~/~

****

Lovino left the church later than he expected. He was so concentrated, he lost track of the time, and when he casually glanced at his watch, he realized he was already late. So he booked it from the pew, to his motorcycle, and sped through the downtown, to the fountain where Antonio wanted to meet. Lovino parked messily, but okay, and left his motorcycle walking very fast, and not as cold as he was before. He wondered how churches could always be so cold, even on the warmest day.

As he walked, Lovino tugged at his jacket collar, to make sure it straight, and he darted his eyes around, in search of Antonio. When he reached the fountain, and it was surrounded by only children and mothers, he panicked. Could Antonio have left? Lovino was ten minutes late, perhaps he got angry and—

“Oh, Lovi!” a familiar voice called.

Lovino’s heart raced at once and he span around on his heel. Past the flowing water he spotted Antonio’s smiling face, and he paced around to meet him.

As soon as they made eye contact, Lovino looked down in embarrassment. “I-I’m sorry I’m late. I didn’t realize the time.”

Antonio laughed, and brought him into a hug. Lovino’s eyes immediately looked around, to see who was watching.

“Aw, it’s okay, Lovi,” Antonio said near his ear. He pulled away and grinned at him. “I’m just glad you came!”

Lovino didn’t miss the excited glint to his eyes, and the remaining creases of worry on Antonio’s forehead.

_He thought I wouldn’t come._

“Whatever,” Lovino muttered and he turned away. “I’m hungry. Let’s get something to eat.”

“Okay!” Antonio chirped, and fell into stride next to him. “Was there some place you wanted to go?”

“I don’t really care. You choose,” Lovino replied. He still didn’t know the restaurants around here very well.

Antonio’s hand brushed against his. “Hm, well…there is a Mexican restaurant I go to sometimes. Is that okay with you? Or would you prefer Italian?”

“As if I’d try the shitty Italian food around here,” Lovino mumbled and blushed when Antonio chuckled at what he said.

“I don’t think it could compare to your cooking, so I understand.”

Antonio’s fingers touched Lovino’s more deliberately: quietly asking permission to hold his hand. Lovino’s breath caught, and his head and heart fought about what to do. Then in a split-second decision, he stuffed his hand in his pocket.

Antonio had his answer, and they kept walking side by side. 

****  
**~/~**

 

Lovino thought - _Lovino had hoped_ \- that perhaps, once they were seated at a restaurant, some of these feelings would pass. But in reality, it felt as if everything was getting so much worse.

It felt as if all eyes were on them. Was that possible? The waitress smiled at them and led them to their table quite normally, but when Antonio leaned over the table and pointed to something on Lovino’s menu—did that appear suspicious? Did the couple down the way notice how Lovino smiled at one of Antonio’s stupid jokes? Did it look smitten? Did he look smitten? He didn’t mean to. He didn’t want to. He wasn’t.

“Lovino,” Antonio called softly.

Lovino was startled anyway, and glanced up from his sparkling water. He met Antonio’s eyes first, they were very gentle, and very green; then he felt his touch, and he stared at their hands. Antonio was covering his on the table.

“Are you okay?” Antonio asked, his voice so tentative, like he was stepping on broken glass.

Lovino’s eyes stung for a moment, and he wanted to confess everything; as if Antonio was the person he should confess too, and not God. But he didn’t say anything. He retracted his hand, lifted his menu and let out a hollow, awkward laugh.

“Yeah, o-of course I’m fine. What does it look like?” His voice didn’t sound nearly as threatening as he wanted.

Antonio’s sigh was small, but Lovino still heard it, and it made his heart ache.

But as always, Antonio managed a bright smile, and he continued. “You look very nice today, by the way.”

Lovino flushed without meaning to, and he glanced down at his outfit. It was simple - just a t-shirt, leather jacket, and jeans - but he had put care into it. “Th-thank you,” he murmured.

His eyes travelled to Antonio again. It didn’t escape his notice how dressed up Antonio looked either. He wanted to say something. He could compliment how Antonio wasn’t wearing a ripped pair of jeans for once. Or how he was actually buttoning his shirts. Or how it looked like actually styled his hair. Maybe he could tell him, for the first time, just how goddamn beautiful his eyes are.

“Y-you look, um, pretty…pretty…”

“ _Gracias!_ ” Antonio responded happily.

Lovino’s ears burned and he dropped his menu. “Damn it, that’s not what I meant! You didn’t let me finish! I was going to say you looked k-kind of, you know, h-handsome…”

Antonio’s eyes widened, and Lovino thought he was going to jump out of his chair.

“Oh, Lovino. That’s so—”

“Hello, there! Are you two ready for me to take your order?”

Lovino almost screamed when he realized their waitress had materialized by their side without a sound. His heart raced, and he couldn’t help but panic wondering whether she heard Lovino’s compliment. Normal men didn’t compliment other men, did they?

Antonio appeared as happy as ever though, and responded to the waitress with an enthusiastic order of a cheese quesadilla, pinto beans, rice, and a refill of chips and salsa.

The waitress turned to Lovino, and he could’ve swore he caught the knowing glint in her eyes. He mumbled a fast order of chile Colorado, and handed her the menu. Lovino’s heart was in his throat.

As soon as she was gone, Antonio leaned over the tale, grinning and sparkling like a rainbow. “Lovi, did you really mean that?”

Lovino stared at the tablecloth as another blush warmed his skin.

“Lovi?~”

He crossed his arms, and dug his nails into his jacket. “Yeah, yea—”

“Oh hey! Artie look it’s Antonio!”

That powerfully American voice made Lovino’s words die on his lips. He prayed that no one they knew would be here.

Antonio didn’t miss the sudden fear shadowing Lovino’s face, and he turned to Alfred courteously, hoping to push him away before Lovino could. “Hi _amigos_! How are you two doing?”

Alfred and Arthur lingered by their table, and Lovino shrunk further and further back into his seat. This was that strange gay couple that scared him at Francis’s brunch all of those months ago.

“Alfred decided to drag me out for dinner tonight. He wanted to show me one of the ‘secret treasures’ of the town,” Arthur sighed, and gave Alfred a disapproving glare.

Alfred didn’t seem to notice, or care, and laughed anyway. “Aw, come on Artie! Don’t be that way! You enjoyed your burrito, didn’t you?”

“I would’ve enjoyed it more if it didn’t look exactly like the cat’s intestines I operated on this morning.”

Alfred laughed again, and finally noticed Lovino’s hunched, blushing figure. “Oh, hey there Lovino! I didn’t even see ya’ there.” His blue eyes darted between Lovino and Antonio. “So are you guys eating together then?”

Antonio smiled politely, but didn’t respond right away.

Lovino took the initiative for him. “I’m waiting for my brother, who’s late _as always_. The bastard saw me sitting here alone and sat down.” Lovino kept his gaze to the table and prayed that Arthur and Alfred would take the bait.

Then he heard the most terrifying sound.

Alfred’s disbelieving laugh, followed by, “Aw, you don’t have to lie. We can tell what’s going on here.” He gave them both an exaggerated wink.

Lovino stared at Antonio, terrified, and Antonio in turn, began to dissuade Alfred. “No, really. Lovino’s right. You don’t under—”

“Aw, come now Toni! You guys were making googly eyes at each other the first time we say you two together. Don’t think anything escapes me,” Alfred said proudly.

Arthur made a snide comment to himself, but no one bothered to make it out.

Antonio was busy chuckling lightly again, trying to make light of the situation. “Alfred, you don’t seem to understand. We’re just friends. Really.”

“Hm, Artie, what do you think?” Alfred asked playfully.

Arthur was ready to announce his opinion on the subject, but he caught Antonio’s pleading stare, and stopped. He finally noticed Lovino’s red face, and shining, brown eyes—ready to cry or yell. Arthur pressed his lips together, and grasped Alfred’s arm. “Oh, come on you bloody idiot. We’re wasting their time. We need to get home and feed the animals anyway.”

“Aw, Artie! Don’t be like that!” Alfred protested, and dragged his feet as Arthur led him away from the table. “Isn’t it obvious they’re going out? You think so too, don’t you?” Alfred gossiped loudly, and more than a few heads turned to see what the fuss was about.

Lovino was ready to die right there and then. He didn’t want to cry in public though. He wouldn’t. He just…

“Lovi, are you okay?” Antonio asked, and his hand reached across the table again.

Something violent flashed across Lovino’s face, and he clumsily stumbled to his feet and started walking.

“Lovino?” Antonio called, and he quickly followed suit. The waitress appeared in front of him with their meals, and he dug through his pockets for his wallet. Without counting, he handed her what money he had, and bolted out the door.

Lovino was already across the street, not running, but walking fast with his hand over his mouth. Was his back trembling?

“Lovino! Lovino, please wait!” Antonio shouted, and he ran as fast as he could to catch up.

Lovino made no move to run away - perhaps he hadn’t even heard him - and when Antonio reached him he grabbed his arm and yanked him backwards so they were face to face.

Antonio’s heart broke. Lovino was crying. He was trying not too. He kept his hand curled over his mouth, but tears ran down his cheeks anyway, and sobs rocked his body unsteadily. He looked so miserable.

“Lovi,” Antonio repeated, and this time in a whisper. He brushed the tears away from Lovino’s cheeks, and held his face. The yellow light of the street-lamps reflected in his eyes. They were as bright and lonely as the stars. “What’s wrong?”

Lovino looked at him and cried for seconds, maybe minutes. His words never came easy, but now he struggled to get them out at all. So he began with actions. His cold hands wrapped around Antonio’s warm ones and pushed them away from his face. “S-stop,” he stuttered.

Antonio’s breath caught in his throat. “What do you mean?” he asked slowly.

Lovino clenched his fingers into his palm. “Just s-stop it. Stop…e-everything,” he said shakily. “Just stop b-being nice to me. Stop touching m-me…stop kissing me.”

Antonio tried to hold his hand again, but Lovino pushed him away.

“Antonio, stop,” Lovino begged, and he stared hard at Antonio’s face. “I c-can’t do this. It’s not right. I’m just…I’m not what they think—I can’t be like this. I—”

“Lovino,” Antonio said, his voice straining to be cool. “It’s okay. Calm down. We can talk about this. How about we go home, and sit down, and we can—”

“No, we can’t, damn it! I can’t do this! Why can’t you j-just leave me alone! I’m not worth it!”

“Lovino, please—”

“I’m too damn scared, and you’re too damn nice, and this is all so fucked up! You can’t love me! You can’t. B-because I _can’t_ love you back,” Lovino exclaimed and his voice broke towards the end.

Antonio stared at him, and his eyes gained a level of seriousness Lovino rarely saw.

“I think you already do,” he said.

Lovino paled, and stepped backwards. “No, I don’t,” he replied levelly. A strange anger flared through his veins and he shoved Antonio with his fists. “Damn it, you don’t seem to get it! I’m not like you! Or Alfred, or Arthur, or Gilbert. I don’t like men,” Lovino affirmed. And he hit Antonio once more. “A-and I don’t like you either!”

“You’re lying,” Antonio said, and his hands caught Lovino’s wrists before they could hit his chest again. He held Lovino tightly and stared at him. “One thing I still haven’t been able to understand is how someone so well-loved, so well cared for, and so free, traps himself in his own little cage.”

“I am not—”

“How can you be so lonely, and yet be so terrified of letting anyone close to you? Do you really think God is so evil that he would want it this way!”

Tears bubbled in Lovino’s eyes again, and he tried to yank free from Antonio’s grip. “Let me go damn it! You don’t know anything!” If anything Antonio held on tighter.

“Do you think my parents were right when they said someone like me is disgusting and strange, and turned out the way I did because the nannies failed at raising me?” Antonio demanded, and his voice was louder.

Lovino’s throat tightened and he could feel the curious glances of people walking by. “Shut up. People are looking at us,” he ordered under his breath.

Antonio’s eyes almost flashed red, Lovino had never seen him so angry. “Why do you care so much? Just let them stare! Not everyone’s opinion matters! They’re not all judging you!”

“But they,” Lovino began helplessly. “Yes, they are.”

“Why do you care so damn much though?”

 _Antonio swore?_ Lovino felt almost afraid of him now. He couldn’t speak.

Antonio seemed to sense this, and slowly let go of Lovino’s hands. “I’m sorry.”

Hot tears fell again, and when Antonio tried to brush them away, Lovino blocked his hand.

“I…I just don’t want to be…” he couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence. It caught in his throat.

“You don’t want to be what? Different?” Antonio guessed. “But everyone’s different. In some way or another, everyone’s weird or strange. It’s not as though liking another man would keep people from getting to know you.”

_That’s not it._

“I know,” Lovino choked. He started walking again, in search of his parked motorcycle.

Antonio was by his side though. “Lovino, please,” Antonio pleaded. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I lost my temper, I’m sorry. Please, _tesoro_. Just talk to me.”

_Stop apologizing. It’s not your fault. It never is._

“Lovino, please,” Antonio said again, his voice weak. They reached the motorcycle, and Lovino already threw one leg over. “ _Lo siento, mi amor_. Don’t leave like this. I don’t want you to be mad at me.”

“…I-I’m not mad,” Lovino replied softly, and he tugged on his helmet.

Antonio’s eyes brightened in hope and he touched Lovino’s shoulder. “Can you promise me that we’ll talk about this tonight?”

Lovino’s fingers gripped the handles.

“Or tomorrow, if you prefer. Just…” Antonio sighed. “I want to make sure we talk, okay?”

“Tomorrow then,” Lovino muttered, and he turned on the bike.

The rev of the motor made Antonio jump, but he managed a smile anyway and squeezed Lovino’s shoulder once. “Okay,” he whispered. “Drive safe.”

Lovino pushed off the kickstand and started away. He heard a faint “ _te quiero”_  echo to his ears. He pushed the gas harder and ignored it.

It’s his fault, not Antonio. It’s all his fault. He knows it. And he doesn’t want Antonio to love him. Antonio’s too good. God’s too good. He can’t make either of them happy. He’s too afraid, and too much of a fuck up.

Because the truth is:

_I just don’t want to be gay._

_~/~_

 

“ _Bark! Bark!_ ”

Feliciano groaned and tried to hide further under the covers.

“ _Bark!_ ” The sound was closer, and suddenly, the mattress bounced. A small body cuddled near Feliciano’s head and licked his hair.

“Berlitz,” Feliciano whined, and he begrudgingly left the warmth of the blanket to look at the puppy. “What’s wrong? Aren’t you tired?”

The puppy tilted his head, and Feliciano sighed.

“How does Luddy do it? He must be superhuman to take care of a puppy all night,” Feliciano wondered, and he pet the back of the dog’s ear. “Well,” he cooed. “I guess we’ll go downstairs and see what you need, hm?” He hopped off of the bed and Berlitz stumbled after him. They walked together out of the room and into the cold, dark hallway. Or at least, it should be dark. It’s well past four in the morning. But there was a soft light streaming from the bottom of Lovino’s bedroom door.

Feliciano was too curious to ignore it, and quietly, he snuck up to the room. First, he pressed his ear to the door and listened for any sign of Antonio--in case he was just making a late night appearance. Feliciano didn’t hear any voices; he just heard rustling and zipping and…sniffling? Crying?

He knocked on the door. “Lovi? Are you awake?” he asked gently. The sounds stopped at once. “Lovi?”

The door swung open, and Lovino appeared in front of him, still full dressed, but in a state of rare disarray. His hair, his face, his clothes: everything was messy.

“What are you doing here?” he deadpanned. His voice sounded more detached than the dried tear-stains on his cheeks.

“Well I…I saw the light, and was wondering if you were still awake,” Feliciano replied helplessly.

Lovino didn’t answer, and returned inside his room. Feliciano followed him, and Berlitz trailed behind.

The sight of the room startled him, and he stared at Lovino for an explanation. “Lovi, what is this? Why are you packing your suitcase?”

Lovino stuffed a few more shirts and jackets, and pressed them down with his elbows. “I’m leaving,” he said.

Feliciano gasped. “You’re what?” He thought Lovino was happy! He thought Lovino would stay forever!

“I’m leaving,” Lovino repeated, and he zipped the bag and brought it to its feet. He started rolling it away.

Feliciano trailed after him helplessly. “Why? Where? For how long?”

Lovino lifted the suitcase, and began carrying it down the stairs. “I’m going back to Verona. I don’t know for how long.”

“B-but—” Feliciano stopped, and his throat felt tight. “What about me? What about Tino and Toni and everyone? Have you told them?”

Lovino dropped the suitcase at the base of the steps, on the hardwood floor. “No,” he replied bitterly. He lifted up the handle and started walking again.

“Lovi!” Feliciano called again, and he chased after him. “Why are you going? Did _nonno_ call? Did something happen? I don’t understand!”

Lovino twisted around and stared at him hard in the face. “Shut up. I’m going because I have to.”

“What? But that doesn’t make any…” Feli narrowed his eyes, and then the pieces fell together. “Are you going because of Toni?” he asked, and his voice was gentle with understanding.

Lovino’s eyes sharpened. “No, I’m not.”

“But Lovi—” Feli reached out for him, but his hand was slapped away.

“Go away, Feli. I don’t want to hear this from you,” Lovino warned, a threat lingering in his voice. “Take your boyfriend’s dog away too.”

“My boyfriend’s do—Ludwig isn’t my boyfriend!” Feliciano replied indignantly. “We’re friends! I like him, but nothing’s happened yet!”

“Whatever. I don’t care. Just go away,” Lovino muttered, and dragged his suitcase closer to the front door. Feliciano grabbed his arm.

“Lovi, if you leave without telling Antonio, you’re going to break his heart.”

Lovino didn’t turn around. His head lowered and he pulled his arm away. Without replying, he opened the door and marched outside. A taxi was glowing in the darkness, and Feliciano watched his brother slip inside the car, and the driver finish putting the suitcase away, and climbing in after him. The car drove away, and Feliciano started crying.

His brother wasn’t just breaking Antonio’s heart. He was breaking his own as well. And once again, he was going to be alone.

And this time, Lovino wasn’t going to let anyone find him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another promotion here: The Goliath Beetle and I are doing another gift exchange, and her first installment was just posted, called "As We Were." You should definitely check it out if you get the chance! She's a fab right as I've said before :) and the story's amazing so far. AS SHE IS.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Again, I really hope this chapter turned out better than I thought it did. I had big plans for it in my head, but I felt pretty stifled writing it. I don't know. D:
> 
> Til next time!


	10. Albariño

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The changes from summer to fall, and from fall to winter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please bear with the poems. I already started this thing where each season gets a poem, so I'm in no position to end it now *laughs* That being said, hopefully they'll smooth the time transitions over a bit. That was always their intention anyway.
> 
> Translations are at the bottom.
> 
> *Also, just to reiterate, because it's been a while - Alfred is a large animal vet (meaning cows, horses, etc.), and Arthur is a small animal vet. They have a practice together.
> 
> *Marie Bonnefoy - Monaco, and Francis's younger sister
> 
> *Giovanni Vargas - Seborga, distant cousin in the Vargas family tree
> 
> *Luciano da Silva - Brazil, husband of Isabel (Antonio's sister)

It was hot. The sun was bright and large in the sky, and it burned Antonio’s skin from all angles. He let the light sink deep into his pores, and deliberately ignored the shade of the lemon tree next to him. Antonio wanted heat. He needed it. The warmth, the burn: it was the sunlight’s embrace.

Antonio was often alone as a child. His parents were very busy and important people, it wasn’t unusual that they didn’t have time to spend with their children. And Isabel was eight years younger and in a crib for so long, Antonio learned to entertain himself. He would run away from the nannies and into the outdoors. He’d hide in the stables with the horses, or climb through the gardens and get caught in the roses. There was a comfort in the outdoors. The indoors was stifling, strict, and cold. It was all order and manners, and every room had a certain set of rules to be obeyed.

Antonio spent so many hours being locked away in his bedroom, the nursery, and the closet...he knew the truth. A house was just a collection of rooms. And rooms were just boxes: lifeless and hard, their only purpose was to entrap you, cage you, and keep you from the real world. And there’s nothing real about the indoors.

He loved the outdoors. He loved life. And outside, everything was alive. The grass, the trees, the animals, the sky. Antonio didn’t feel alone there, because he _wasn’t_ alone. And it didn’t matter who he was, what he believed in, what his grades were, or how much money he had. There aren’t rules. Well, maybe there are, maybe there aren’t, but their existence wasn’t important, and that was the point.

“Toni!”

Antonio recognized the accent, the cadence, but somehow it did nothing to cheer him. He didn’t even move. Toni wasn’t the name he wanted to hear right now.

“Toni! _Mon cher_ , what are you doing?” Francis called again, and this time closer. His footsteps crunched grass, and someone was running behind him.

“Damn it, do you think he can even hear us?” Gilbert asked, and his voice sounded strangely worried.

Antonio sighed, and dipped his head into his arms.

His friends collapsed on either side of him. It was obvious which one fell to the ground hurriedly, and which one knelt down in a few fluid strokes. He thought he didn’t want them here. He thought they’d be suffocating and unnecessary. But then he felt touches on his arms, his hair…

Nature can listen, but it can’t hold you.

“It’s okay, _mon cher_. It’s only us,” Francis murmured, and his smooth hands swept through Antonio’s messy curls.

Gilbert squeezed Antonio’s bicep. “We already know,” he explained. “Feliciano woke Ludwig up this morning, crying and really upset. I called Francis and we came over here as soon as we could.”

“I’m so sorry Toni. I really am. I was so worried that—” he cut himself off and took a deep breath.

The words _I told you so_ lingered in the air.

“Toni, uh, do you want to like, talk about it or something?” Gilbert offered tentatively. “I don’t really understand what happened. Did you guys like get into a fight or something?”

“Gilbert,” Francis warned.

“What? I can ask that!”

“Does it look like Toni wants to talk about it?”

Gilbert groaned, and then he dropped his head in his hands too. “I just want to help man. I can’t stand it when I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Just be patient. He’ll—”

“He was afraid,” Antonio said abruptly.

Gilbert propped himself back up, and Francis leaned in closer. Antonio was still hidden in his arms. His friends looked at one another, deciding whether to push him or wait for him to continue.

Slowly, Antonio added, “I mean…I knew he was afraid. He’s always been afraid. But I thought…” he paused. “I thought he was coming around.”

Gilbert exchanged looks between Francis and Antonio. His eyes narrowed. “Oh, is this about the whole gay thing?”

Francis rolled his eyes.

Antonio’s shoulders rose and fell with a heavy breath. “I think he’s more afraid of what other people would think.”

“Well,” Francis placated. “Most people are like that. It’s not that unusual.”

“But I think he’s afraid of me too. Because I don’t care.”

“Well, you are unusual.”

Antonio almost laughed; he tried, but it sounded more like a breathy, tired sigh. He lifted his head anyway, and stared out at the horizon. There were no tear stains, his eyes weren’t red, but…

That melancholic mist that used to cloud those green eyes all of those years ago in Spain had returned. Gilbert and Francis both recognized it.

Finally, a breeze stirred, momentarily lifting the sunlight off of their skin.

“He’ll come back,” Antonio said quietly.

Gilbert raised a brow. “How do you know?”

“Well,” Antonio smiled and looked at him. “He can’t hide away forever.”

“I guess that’s true,” Gilbert chuckled, and tried to lighten the mood.

Antonio hummed, and glanced towards the vineyards again. “And I think he might love me.”

"If that's why you think he'll come back, why did he even leave in the first place?" Francis replied dryly. Gilbert threw him a glare, but he ignored it.

“He’s afraid,” Antonio repeated. “But he knows how much I love him. He’ll come around.”

Francis opened his mouth to point something out, but Gilbert swooped in with a clap to Antonio’s back.

“Of course he will, buddy! Even an idiot like him will realize it at some point!” Gilbert declared boldly, with a strong laugh.

Antonio smiled at him appreciatively, but said nothing.

Francis looked away, and frowned.

More wind passed. And this time some leaves fell too.

“How long do you think it’ll take?” Francis asked gently.

Antonio didn’t have an answer right away. He was tying flowers together, and still smiling. “I don’t know,” he said. “But he’ll come back one day.”

It was too romantic of an answer. Knowing Antonio, he would wait forever, rain or shine, but it’s unrealistic. Too childish. Too irrational. Francis didn’t want his friend to suffer for so long.

“When?” Francis repeated.

Antonio turned to him, and their eyes met. Antonio stared right at him, but his eyes were still so far away. Simply unreachable. He was locked away in a dream.

“Eventually,” he answered.

And they sat until dusk, when finally Antonio agreed to leave with them.

 

~/~

 

The next morning, after Gilbert had coerced them to drink like the good old days of their trio, they awoke piled together in Gilbert’s messy queen-sized bed.

Francis was delirious, and Gilbert had a terrible, throbbing hangover, but Antonio was oddly quiet. After a while, they noticed he was shaking and they turned him over. Antonio had been crying all night.

 

~/~

 

“He’ll come back,” she said softly.

Francis was brooding over a glass of red wine. He didn’t know what kind it was; he could barely taste it. He was too upset.

Jeanne tiptoed over to Francis’s side and ran her hands over his arm. “He’ll come back, _mon cher_. You’ll see.”

Francis ran his fingers through his hair. “What if he doesn’t?” he asked. “Antonio doesn’t have it in him to put his heart back together again. First his family, now the Italian…"

Jeanne sat down next to him and held his hand. “He’ll come back,” she said again.

He turned to his left and admired her gentle, assured smile. Her gold cross glinted in the moonlight.

“But what if he comes back and it doesn’t make a difference?” Francis asked. This was the question that bothered him most of all.

Jeanne’s smile never faltered, and she held his hand tighter. “Lovino loves him. I can tell.”

“That doesn’t answer the question.”

Jeanne laughed then, and she reached out for Francis’s face. “You’re too involved in your friends’ lives for your own good. It seems like when Antonio’s heart breaks, yours does too.”

Francis smiled at that. It was true. “Well, we are very good friends.”

“What does Gilbert think of the situation?”

“Gil’s an idiot,” Francis muttered and rolled his eyes. “He seems to think that we can either threaten Lovino to come back, blackmail him, or just kidnap him. And the frightening part is, he seemed rather keen on the last one.”

“He wants to help,” Jeanne said, laughing lightly.

“I know,” Francis replied, and he took another sip of his wine. Then he stared out the window again. “But there’s nothing we can do.”

Jeanne ran her thumb over his hand.

“He’ll come back,” she reassured him again. “He’ll come back when he’s ready.”

Francis closed his eyes. The same questions lingered in his head.

But when will he come back? Weeks? Months? More? And…

What was Antonio supposed to do in the meantime?

 

~/~

 

It was easy to go on as normal for a while. Antonio had a job to do, and there was something monotonously comforting about doing a routine. It would force his thoughts away from his heart and towards his hands. He had to be careful with what he was doing. He couldn’t let his mind stray for too long. And for that reason, the days were easy. Berwald and Kiku hardly noticed a difference, or if they did they didn’t comment on it. Talking wasn’t their strong suit anyway.

It was the nights that were hard.

Antonio was never the type to sleep well, or for very long, and that was part of the reason he took regular siestas in the afternoon. It was either nightmares or thoughts that kept him up. And usually the nightmares were just extensions of what was already on his mind.

He dreamt of his parents, their words, their yells: loud, harsh Spanish that echoed everywhere in his ears. When he woke up in a start he could still hear it. Tears were streaming down his face and he could still hear it. There are some words that never fade away. Their echoes seem to go on for eternity.

_“Antonio Fernandez Carriedo!”_

_Y-yes?_

_“_ _We can't do this again. You have to start acting responsibly.”_

_I know. I know. I’m trying. I really am._

_“More like your sister.”_

_…Yes._

_“You’re so selfish! Why can’t you think of us for once?”_

_I’m not selfish! Really, I—well, I don’t mean to be! I just…I can’t do it. Any of it._

_“_ _What about the family’s reputation? Don’t you care?”_

_I do care. I do. I care so much. I care about everyone. Mamá, papa, Isabel. Everyone. But I can’t…I can’t pretend. I’m no good at pretending. And I’m no good at being who you want me to be, I’m…_

_“Selfish!”_

_No, I—I don’t want to be, I—_

_“A disgrace!”_

_No! No, please! I’m trying, I—_

_“A disappointment!”_

_…I know._

These were old nightmares. Used ones that never evaporated. The newer ones were much worse.

_“Antonio, stop.”_

_Lovino. I don’t want you to cry._

_“I c-can’t do this.”_

_Please don’t cry._

_“It’s not right.”_

_Please…_

_“I’m just…I’m not what they think—I can’t be like this. I—”_

_I know. I know, Lovino. I should’ve made you talk about this more. We should’ve talked about this together. But I’ve always known._

_Because you’re right. I may not care now, but I used to. It’s scary to be different, and to have people look at you. Maybe I see it a bit more clearly than you. My family’s always been in the spotlight one way or another: television, papers, parties, and galas. I’ve met a lot of people that my parents wanted to impress. They wanted to impress them because they wanted their support, their affection, and their admiration. It was for the game that all powerful people play._

_I never liked it. I cared about my family, and my friends, but not everybody else. I never needed power, so I didn’t try to please them._

_But you don’t need power either. And you don’t have to worry about the affection of your family and friends. You know that. So then…why are you so concerned about what everyone else thinks?_

_You don’t seem to understand._

_You don’t seem to believe._

_I think, even after all of this time, you don’t think people will love you. You think you have to be perfect just to have a chance._

_Oh, Lovi. You’re too gentle, too cautious, too careful. You’re too scared to believe. I should’ve told you I loved you more. I should’ve complimented you more often. I should’ve tried to get through to you._

_But you were always so afraid._

_Even of me._

 

~/~

 

“ _Nonno! Ciao!_ How are you?” Feliciano gushed, and turned his watch over to check the time. It must have been early in Verona.

 _“Well, Feli…I’ve been better,”_ he replied tiredly. His voice sounded rough and decaffeinated. _“Lovino and I had a long night again.”_

“Oh,” Feli sighed, and his heart panged. “Lovi still hasn’t talked to me.”

_“He’s not really talking to anyone right now. All business, and then shuts himself up in his room. Or walks for miles in the vineyards.”_

Feli picked up a ladle and stirred the marinara sauce. “Has he talked about what happened?”

 _“Not to me,”_ he muttered. _“He really hasn’t talked to anyone about anything.”_

“Sounds like Lovi,” Feli agreed with a sad smile. “Do you think, um…Do you think you can get him to talk to me?” It’s been a month.

 _“Have you two really not talked since he left?”_ Nonno demanded in disbelief. _“I can’t believe it. You guys are usually joined at the hip. I didn’t think you went longer than a few hours talking to each other.”_

Feliciano’s eyes stung, and he kept stirring. “I think he’s really made at me.”

 _“Aw, Feli. That’s not true. Lovino has a short-temper, and very sensitive, but he’s never been mad at you for long,”_ he assured him. _“If you want to know the truth. He’s probably just afraid to talk to you. He looks kind of guilty.”_

“Guilty?” Feliciano repeated.

_“Yeah, well, he hasn’t admitted it. But I can tell he feels bad for leaving in such a hurry. Little Lovi’s always worn his heart on his sleeve.”_

Feliciano didn’t respond right away, and stared transfixed at the pot.

_“Look, I know you don’t want to go behind your brother’s back, but could you maybe explain to me why he left so abruptly? This whole thing’s thrown me for a loop.”_

Feliciano’s eyes hardened and he made a decision. “He fell in love.”

_“He…what?”_

“Lovi fell in love. That’s why he left.”

 _Nonno_ fell silent for a while. He took a few long, deep breaths. _“Well, I guess it’s about time.”_

Feliciano couldn’t help but laugh.

Nonno hummed thoughtfully. _“So he’s running away from love, huh? That’s not very Italian of him.”_

“He’s really confused,” Feliciano added.

 _“That doesn’t surprise me. Lovino’s always been the one to overthink things too,”_ _nonno_ commented dryly. _“So all of this for some girl, huh?”_

Feliciano bit his lip. “Well…not exactly.”

 _Nonno’s_ silent confusion reverberated through the phone. Slowly, he asked, _“…What does that mean?”_

 

~/~

 

“Do you think it’s too soon?”

Gilbert finished his swig of beer and wiped his mouth. He glanced at Francis and narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?"

Francis gestured around like it was obvious. “Do you think it’s too soon for me to suggest someone new?” he elaborated. Gilbert still seemed confused, so he added, “for Antonio.”

Gilbert understood that. “What?” he snapped and peered over Francis’s shoulder to check that Antonio hadn’t heard anything. “Of course it’s too soon. The damn brat is the only thing on his mind. He hardly even looks at anyone anymore.”

“Gilbert, it’s been _two months_ ,” Francis emphasized. “Two months and not one word. Antonio’s terribly lonely. It’s obvious.”

“He’s an idiot, but we can’t tell him what to do,” Gilbert replied. “He’s still in love with him.”

Francis groaned and leaned over the bar. “I know,” he lamented. “Why does he do this to himself? Why couldn’t he just fall in love with someone easy?”

“Because he’s an idiot,” Gilbert repeated, and he chugged the rest of his beer.

Francis nursed his white wine and continued stewing silently in his dark corner.

Minutes later, Antonio left Elizaveta’s and Roderich’s table, and rejoined his friends at the bar. His eyes were glazed and tired, but he smiled pleasantly and leaned against the counter.

“I finally escaped,” he joked, and laughed lightly.

Gilbert laughed too, but his eyes were watching Antonio warily. He uncapped another beer. “Yeah, looks like Eliza was a bit too eager to get lil’ Roddy out of the house. He looks totally out of his element though. Poor snob.”

“Despite it all, they’re still a rather endearing couple, aren’t they?” Francis pointed out.

Gilbert pursed his lips and took a dramatic pause. Then he finally replied, “nah, not really.”

“Of course you’d say that.” Francis shook his head and smiled. “What do you think, Toni?”

Antonio’s eyes slowly wandered back to Elizaveta’s table. “I think they’re sweet,” he said softly.

His friends appeared to have realized their mistake at the same time. Francis pinched the bridge of his nose, and Gilbert kept chugging beer; both of them desperately hoping the miserable feelings will pass. They didn’t though.

Antonio turned back towards them and his smile was fading. He sighed and stared at his calloused hands. “I think I’m going back now _amigos_. I’m getting kind of tired.”

Francis sat up. “Oh, are you sure _mon cher_? Don’t you want to stay for a while longer?”

“Yeah, you can totally stay at my place tonight. Luddy isn’t even home, so you can risk his uptight bed,” Gilbert offered, trying to make light towards the end.

Antonio chuckled, but pushed off of the counter anyway. He fumbled through his pockets for the keys to Berwald’s truck. “Thanks for the offer, but I think I’d rather get back home. I’m getting pretty sleepy.”

Gilbert’s shoulder slumped in defeat. “Well, all right then,” he grumbled. “Drive safe, buddy.”

“I will.”

Antonio was starting to walk away when Francis grasped his shoulder and turned him around. “Toni, are you sure you’re okay?”

Antonio stared at him a bit surprised, and slowly a smile returned. “Of course! I’m just tired, Francis. I promise.”

Francis pressed his lips together and gave him an even look. “Well, I was wondering whether or not to even offer this. But…how would you feel about maybe working for me?” he asked gently. Then added, “just for a while.” _Until your beloved comes back…if he does._ “For a change of scenery at least. And some new company.”

Now, Antonio was too stunned to even smile. “I-I, um,” he started. A warm blush crept over his tan. Knowing that his friends were fussing over him always embarrassed him. “ _Gracias_ , Francis,” he finally managed. “But I’m not sure if that’s the problem…”

“I know,” Francis replied swiftly. “But at least if you stay with Jeanne and I…” he bit his lip and debated even finishing. “You won’t be as…lonely as you—”

“I’m not—”

“Yes, you are,” Francis interrupted. “Don’t even bother with lies, Toni. Gilbert and I have seen this version of you before.” Antonio winced and Francis’s gaze softened. Slowly, he reached for his shoulder and gave it a reassuring grip. “We know you’re hurt Toni. You have a right to be. Gilbert and I are just trying to help you. It’s hard sitting on our hands.”

Indecision flit across Antonio’s eyes, but he decided to reply honestly. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be like this. I…” he closed his eyes. Then he opened them and smiled. “I just have a lot on my mind. But it won’t be for much longer. I promise.”

Francis eyed him carefully, and he knew there was no chance of digging through that happy façade. Reluctantly, he let go of Antonio’s arm, and waved. “Well, I’ve made my offer anyway. Let me know if you reconsider.”

“I will,” Antonio said easily, and turned on his heel.

Francis decided to escort him, and matched his stride to the door. When they reached it, Francis held it open and as Antonio slid by, he whispered, “just so you know Toni, if your lover was never your lover, it’s not cheating to find company until he returns.”

Antonio paused to catch the end of the sentence. He peered over his shoulder and matched Francis’s cool, knowing eyes, and smiled.

He didn’t know which of his replies to choose, so he said nothing and kept walking to the car.

Francis sighed again, and retreated back into the bar.

 

~/~

 

_Ring!_

_Ring!_

_Ring!_

_“…”_

Feliciano held his breath. “Lovi? Is that you?”

There was a drawn out sigh, then slowly came the reply, _“Yeah.”_

“Oh, _grazia a dio_! I thought you were never going to talk to me!” Feliciano confessed, half-laughing, though his breath was still coming too fast. He started walking down the hall, looking for something to do.

 _“Your calls were getting hard to ignore,”_ Lovino muttered.

Feliciano eyes wandered up to the ceiling. “Was that the only reason?”

 _“Yes,”_ Lovino replied snappily. Then there was a groan. _“And…no.”_

Feliciano smiled resumed his casual stroll down the hall. “I’m still very mad at you, you know.”

_“Yeah…”_

“And you haven’t apologized to me yet.”

_“Yeah…”_

“Or to anyone else for that matter.”

Lovino didn’t respond that time, and faint noises of plates clinking echoed through the phone.

“Where are you?” Feliciano asked, curiosity veering his train of thought. “I thought you hated going to town.”

 _“I do, damn it,”_ Lovino grumbled quietly, like he was afraid of being heard. _“But I’m on a business trip. I needed to escape the hotel, so I went to the bar across the street.”_

“Oh? So you’re not in Verona anymore?”

 _“I’m in Sicily. I had to get out of Verona. Nonno was being really clingy. I couldn’t take being around him for much longer,”_ Lovino mumbled, the last part more to himself.

Feliciano reached the staircase and started walking down. “Hm, what was he being clingy about?”

 _“He—uh, he,”_ Lovino stammered _. “H-he was just being an annoying bastard as usual. He’s trying to talk to me about life and whatever.”_

Feliciano pursed his lips. It seemed like _nonno_ wasn’t getting through to him very well. “Ve~ well, you know he only wants to help!”

Lovino’s reply was somewhere in between a snort and a cough, followed by a few polite remarks, presumably made to a pretty waitress. _“Sorry,”_ he spoke into the phone again. _“Someone came by.”_

Feliciano nodded and hummed lightly. His fingers danced on the railing of the staircase, and he battled his indecision. “So Lovi,” he began slowly. “When do you think you’ll come back to California?”

It was silent, then some ambience noise of soft Italian and footsteps lingered. _“I don’t know,”_ Lovino finally murmured.

Feliciano smiled bitterly and walked to the kitchen. “Well, you never really explained why you left in the first place,” he pointed out.

_“I know.”_

“Do you think you can now?”

More footsteps. Just walking and walking. Where was Lovi going?

 _“…No,”_ he said.

“I see,” Feliciano replied.

A church bell rang. Once, twice, three—

“Has anything changed since you left?” Feliciano asked finally.

Four, five, six— _“…I don’t know.”_

“I see.”

Seven, eight, nine.

_“I-I’m sorry, Feli.”_

Feliciano stopped opening the freezer and paid attention.

 _“I didn’t—I didn’t mean to snap at you, o-or ignore you—I…”_ Lovino trailed off. _“I was really upset w-with myself, but I was never mad at you... Scusa.”_

“Lovi,” Feliciano breathed, more in relief than surprise. He knew eventually Lovino would come around. It was always a matter of when. Everything took longer with Lovino. “It’s okay _fratello_. I was just worried about you.”

_“You don’t need to be.”_

Feliciano lips quirked in amusement, and he grasped the sorbet resting on the shelf. He closed the freezer and didn’t bother responding with an argument. It’s not as if Lovino would listen anyway.

After a few minutes of Feliciano slaving away at the sorbet and carving out a few pieces for himself into a bowl, Lovino spoke again.

 _“So, um, how are things there?”_ he asked tentatively.

“Ve~ how do you mean?” Feliciano teased.

_“God damn it, you—”_

“Well, nothing’s changed much I guess. It’s getting a bit cooler, finally. We’re getting ready to harvest the grapes soon.”

_“Uhuh.”_

“Berlitz has grown up a lot. Ludwig brings him over more and more now that he’s a big puppy. He’s been talking about moving out of his brother’s place to find an apartment that allows pets.”

_“Like I give a sh—”_

“Oh, and Berwald and I are going to start giving interviews tomorrow.”

 _“Interviews?”_ Lovino repeated, obviously confused. _“For what?”_

Feliciano steadied his voice, so that he would sound very clear. “For a replacement farmer.”

 _“A…”_ Lovino’s voice faded, and Feli could only imagine the expression. It must have been so fearful. _“Why?”_ he choked.

Feliciano pressed his lips together and closed his eyes. “Antonio gave his notice two weeks ago. He’s staying until we find a replacement, but after we do, he’s leaving.”

 _“Leaving? But—what else can that bastard do? Don’t tell me he’s going back to Spain or something,”_ Lovino said shakily.

“No, that’s not what he told me. I think he’s going to work for Francis for a bit,” Feliciano replied carefully. Antonio was very ambiguous with his words, but that sounded about right.

_“S-so, he’s only leaving…for a while?”_

“I don’t know,” Feliciano answered honestly. Then sensing an opening, he added, “But if you really want to know, you could ask him that yourself.”

Lovino scoffed. _“I don’t have that idiot’s number.”_

“I could always put him on my phone if you like,” Feliciano offered. He held his breath and waited for the answer he knew would—

_“No.”_

Of course.

Feliciano sighed and rested his elbow on the counter. “Is there anything else you want to talk about?”

There was a shift in the conversation. It was obvious. Lovino had shut his vulnerability away.

_“Let’s talk about business.”_

And they did.

 

  _Nada turba mi ser, pero estoy triste._

_Algo lento de sombra me golpea,_

_aunque casi detrás de esta agonía,_

_he tenido en mi mano las estrellas._

 

_Debe ser la caricia de lo inútil,_

_la tristeza sin fin de ser poeta,_

_de cantar y cantar, sin que se rompa_

_la tragedia sin par de la existencia._

 

_Ser y no querer ser? esa es la divisa,_

_la batalla que agota toda espera,_

_encontrarse, ya el alma moribunda,_

_que en el mísero cuerpo aún quedan fuerzas._

 

_¡Perdóname, oh amor, si no te nombro!_

_Fuera de tu canción soy ala seca._

_La muerte y yo dormimos juntamente..._

_Cantarte a ti, tan sólo, me despierta._

* * *

 

_Fall_

* * *

 

It was time for the harvest.

Some preferred the newer, mechanical methods of picking the grapes, and there were others who clung to tradition. Francis insisted on tradition.

It wasn’t just the grapes for his Sauternes wine, which are required to be handpicked; Francis ordered that all varieties, all types, all grapes be handpicked. He said that he didn’t care about the costs and the extra labor, and that his family has always held the tradition of handpicking. In a way, it is even more efficient, since the knowledge of the farmer helps him pick only healthy bunches of grapes, and picks them with a gentler hand.

And since Antonio knew Francis was so particular about his harvest season, and that he went out of his way to hire extra workers for the very reason, he allowed himself to flee.

Originally, he didn’t want to. He wanted to stay and prove a point. But more and more, the loneliness was engulfing him, suffocating him. There were people around, but the fact that the one he wanted wasn’t there just made the emptiness all the more noticeable.

He had to get out. Strolling the acres of Francis’s larger, well-established estate was distracting. He wasn’t used to Lovino’s presence there. He didn’t expect it.

It was only the times he visited the stable that a cold chill swept over his skin and his lips. He ached for that familiar warmth. Someone as hot and bright as the sun.

  

~/~

 

Feli managed to find someone to hire. He was as tall and strong as Berwald, and carried his load just as well. But it wasn’t the same.

Nothing would be the same as before.

~/~

 

Antonio was invited to dinner with Francis and Jeanne almost every night. It wasn’t a surprise. Francis, Gilbert and him used to have every meal together for a while. But there was something about being the third wheel...It never bothered Antonio before, and now it did.

One night, Francis and Jeanne talked about a vacation they were planning for the spring—they were going to visit Paris, Marseilles, and Monaco and attend fabulous parties and events all the while. Francis even joked about getting married.

Antonio decided to eat on his own from then on.

 

~/~

 

Lovino spent two hours comparing flights to California. He bought a one-way ticket, then cancelled it. He bought another one, and cancelled it too.

 

~/~

 

“Shh. _Está bien_ , Rosalita,” Antonio whispered, and he ran his hand over the mare’s broad neck.

“Alfred, are you sure you need me here? I’m not exactly comfortable with…this,” Arthur mumbled as he gestured in the general direction of Rosalita. She was sprawled on the floor, heaving strong and heavy breaths. Alfred was at the rear of her, looking excited, but also concentrated, and Antonio was petting her neck and nose.

“Aw, come on Artie! This is really exciting! I know you’ve seen dogs and cats give birth, how is this any different?” he replied enthusiastically.

“Well, for one, there’s a lot more—”

“Oh, here come the hooves!”

“Oh, dear god,” Arthur murmured and he turned away.

Francis laughed and leaned against the back of the stall. Jeanne was there too, standing by and keeping them company. It was very late at night, and rather chilly.

“You’re doing so well,” Antonio encouraged, and he kept strong eye contact with Rosalita. He’s been with her all day. “Here comes the head!” Alfred announced proudly.

Arthur ducked into the empty stall nearby. Rosalita kept breathing, and Alfred was dedicated to announcing every detail of the birth. Eventually, a little foal sat on the floor, and Rosalita shakily stood up to break the umbilical cord, and Alfred set to work on cleaning and inspecting the foal for any injury.

“Hm, it looks like she’s as healthy as a horse, Toni!”

Arthur sighed and covered his face. “You bloody moron.”

“What are you going to name here?” Francis prompted.

Antonio was watching the dark foal struggling to rise to its feet. “Another flower, I think.”

“Don’t you have one in mind already?” Francis asked, slightly surprised. “Knowing you…” Finally, the foal stood.

Antonio smiled, and said, “I guess I’ve just had a lot on my mind.”

 

~/~

 

For a week, a storm of rain and hail passed through the valley. It was strange, but not unheard of. And though it caused some difficulty for the vineyards and traffic, Francis and Gilbert found the silver lining, and decided to use this as an opportunity to stage an intervention for their friend. Although, after Antonio’s brisk talks with Francis and Jeanne, Gilbert was put in charge of taking the bullet this time.

He was drinking a beer a bit too early in the afternoon to calm his nerves. He needed to be cool and collected, or else Antonio might take it the wrong way. “So, Toni,” he began, and crossed his arms over the bar counter.

Antonio looked up from his soda, eyes bright. “What is it?”

Gilbert grimaced and looked to the side. “Ah, well…” he mumbled. “Francis—no. I—well, we were wondering something…” Antonio just stared at him blankly, so Gilbert persevered. “Well, what if Lovino... _doesn’t_ come back?”

Antonio chuckled and shook his head. “He will. Don’t worry.”

“Damn it, how can I not worry? You put up a good front for other people, but Francis and I can tell how sad you are.”

“ _Lo siento_ ,” Antonio said, and his smile faded. “But he’ll come back, Gilbert. I know he will.”

Gilbert wanted to tear his hair from the roots. He still tried to restrain his voice though. “Well, what if he comes back, but doesn’t want to be with you?” he demanded.

Antonio remained very still, as though he hadn’t heard the question.

So Gilbert tried again. “It’s not that I don’t think you guys have a chance, but I have to side with Francis on this one. I think you should start looking at this realistically. It’s been _four months_. Four months, and no word at all. Not even through Feliciano.”

Antonio sighed. “I know.”

Gilbert straightened his back and leaned away slightly. “Oh,” he said. Awkwardly, he added, “Well, good then.”

Antonio nodded, but couldn’t muster up a smile this time. His eyes shined, because it was true.

It was four months and counting.

 

~/~

 

After a long walk, Lovino returned to his room. He stared at his computer for what seemed like hours. Then when it was dark outside, he bought a ticket for Spain.

He spent the rest of the night packing.

_They are not long, the weeping and the laughter,_

_Love and desire and hate: I think they have no portion in us after_

_We pass the gate._

_They are not long, the days of wine and roses:_

_Out of a misty dream_

_Our path emerges for a while, then closes_

_Within a dream._

  

* * *

 

_Winter_

  

* * *

 

Antonio craved affection. He hungered for love. There was some part of him that was shattered and damaged long ago, and left him under a spell of constant and eternal loneliness.

Somehow, when he was outside and alone, he didn’t feel it. When it was clearly just him and nature, the loneliness seemed to evaporate, and his heart didn’t feel as heavy. It was only when another person was there did he realize his pain.

Antonio needed people. He did. It was an undisputed truth. When he was by himself, he could pretend it didn’t matter because they weren’t in plain sight, but when there was another warm body somewhere near…it was like a magnetic pull. Antonio needed them. He needed to touch and be touched. To love and be loved. Just to pretend, if only for an hour, that life wasn’t so terrible, and so hauntingly melancholy.

And it was perhaps for that reason that he woke up naked in a bed that he knew was not his.

He hadn’t opened his eyes yet, but it was the smell that struck him first. Like honey and fresh roses. So sweet and sugary, and sensual and kind of…

A jolt of panic shot through Antonio’s veins and he opened his eyes in fright. He sat up on his elbows and ignored the throbbing pulse banging on his temples.

 _Oh,_ he thought, and sank back onto the bed with a nervous laugh. _This isn’t Francis’s room, gracias a Dios._

Something about the smell reminded Antonio of him, but as the dreamy, champagne-clouded memories drifted back, he remembered that it was a woman. He met her at Francis’s Christmas party, much later in the evening.

Antonio’s hands drifted over to the other side of the bed and brushed over the cold, silk sheets. He imagined she must have left a while ago. Antonio turned over on his back and stared up at the white ceiling. He couldn’t really remember what led to it, or what really transpired during it, but…

He felt a little less lonely that night.

 

~/~

 

Her name was Marie. She was only passing through California for the holiday season, and was going back to France after New Year’s.

She was also Francis’s younger sister. That was the bigger surprise.

“Well, I knew it was you right away,” she said with a small smile as her hands worked at braiding her thick, light brown hair. “We met a few years ago, when you were visiting Francis at our home in Marseilles.”

“Oh, right,” Antonio replied slowly, though truthfully the memory was very vague and faded. There was no doubt she was Francis’s sister though. Marie was calmer, to be sure, but there was the familiar air of sophisticated elegance about her. And between the glasses, the deep blue of her eyes, and the way she poured her tea—Antonio sensed a quiet wisdom too.

She would glance at him over her glasses and her eyes would sparkle. “It’s okay if you don’t remember, Toni. It was a long time ago.”

Antonio blushed and stared at his own breakfast. Marie had ordered the hotel breakfast to be served in their room. It was a lovely display of pastries, bread, and jam.

“ _Lo siento_. I don’t really have a good memory for these sorts of things,” Antonio explained, and he poured his coffee.

“Hm,” she said in acknowledgment, and took another sip of her tea. “So you’re broken-hearted, aren’t you?”

Antonio’s hands shook a little, and he spilled coffee onto the plate. “Not really,” he grinned, and smoothly placed the pitcher back on the table.

Marie laughed—it was lighter, and more feminine than Francis’s, but just as friendly. “Don’t bother lying, Toni,” she told him. Their eyes met again, and something mischievous flickered across hers. “I didn’t tell you my name last night, but you chose to call me Lovi. It’s a rather unusual term of endearment, wouldn’t you say?”

Antonio could feel his ears burn, and flashes of the night before returned to his mind. He did remember moaning something…it’s just his luck he would bare his heart.

Marie noticed his distress and reached for his hand. “If it makes you feel any better, I called you Giovanni.”

He looked back at her and tilted his head. His mind was still working slow from the alcohol – he never handled it well – but Antonio thought he understood this.

She noticed the understanding in his eyes and she nodded her head. “We’re very alike, it would seem.”

 

~/~ 

 

It didn’t last long, but that was what they both wanted. It was just until Marie had to leave, they decided to spend every other night together.

“What if he doesn’t come back?” Antonio asked in the darkness. They were both looking at the nighttime lights outside the window.

“He will,” she said quietly, but with certainty. “I know I’ll go back one day.”

They didn’t say much about each other’s situations, but they felt they didn’t really need to.

“When?”

Her eyes flit to the sky. “Well…I’ll go back to France very soon, but I haven’t told him that. It will only be a short stop, before I visit our wineries in Spain.”

Antonio smiled dreamily. “It’ll be nice in Spain around this time. A bit cool, but still very beautiful.”

Marie hummed as she nodded her head. “I think maybe after that, I’ll see him again. I’m just not ready now.”

Antonio wondered when Lovino would be ready, or whether he’d ever be ready at all. He was so sure during summer that Lovino loved him – at least little bit – but there was something about the passing of time that damaged his confidence. It made the past cloudy and confusing, and Antonio didn’t know whether there was any reality in it, or if he dreamt the whole thing.

“Maybe he never loved me at all,” he murmured softly.

Marie tilted her head to gaze at him. The light of the streetlamps reflected in her glasses; then slowly, she pressed her lips to his cheek. “He did. Trust me.”

Antonio glanced at her and laughed. “You don’t even know him.”

Her lips turned up in a small, sly smile. “Call it a woman’s intuition. He loves you, and he’ll come back. One day.”

Antonio sighed breathily. “I hope so.”

“You should be more worried about what’ll happen when he comes back,” she continued airily. “Things won’t be like they were.”

“I know,” Antonio said.

Marie pursed her lips. “You should let him seduce _you_ this time.”

Antonio chuckled, and lied back against the pillows. His heart felt surprisingly light.

“He could do that without even trying.”

 

~/~

 

A few days later, Marie left.

Antonio returned to Francis's vineyard. He felt alone once again.

 

~/~

 

_Ring!_

_Ring!_

Antonio caught the caller ID, and immediately picked up the call. " _H-hola_? Isabel?"

_"Toni! How are you? I feel as though I haven't talked to you in ages! I'm so sorry I didn't call during the holidays!"_

The familiar, airy Spanish made Antonio grin and a laugh escaped him. "No, no! It's no problem at all! It's so good to hear from you!" he exclaimed. His Spanish came out rushed from his excitement. Truthfully, he was depressed that his family forgot to call (or maybe didn't bother to call), but he's always been the type to forgive in an instant. "I've been doing well! It's been the same around here. How about you?"

 _"Oh, well, you know,"_  she giggled. Antonio couldn't believe he almost forgot how adorable his sister's laugh was.  _"Luciano is with me in Spain right now. We're staying with mamá y papá."_

The last part pinched Antonio's heart slightly, but he tried to keep his voice pleasant. "H-how are  _mamá y papá_?"

"Well!  _Papá_  has been talking about retiring sometime soon. He says he's getting tired of politics."

Antonio couldn't help but feel relieved about that.

 _"And mamá is about the same,"_  Isabel laughed.  _"They're both as meddling as usual."_

"Oh, I see," Antonio replied. He wondered whether he should try and change the subject. He and Isabel never liked talking about their parents with each other. Before he could try, however, Isabel spoke up.

_"We were visited by a friend of yours two weeks ago," she told him. "He was very charming. Mamá y papa were quite taken with him."_

"Friend?" Antonio repeated, and his forehead scrunched in concentration. His parents detested Gilbert, and as far as he knew Francis had spent his holidays in California with Jeanne.

_"Si! The one who's involved with wine…"_

Maybe Francis did leave—

 _"The handsome Italian,"_  she elaborated.  _"His name was Lovino something. I can't remember exactly, but mamá probably does."_

At once, Antonio's heart stopped. This was the first time he heard the name Lovino from someone other than himself or Feliciano in weeks.

"O-oh," he gasped. "I didn't know he was in  _España_."

She hummed in agreement.  _"Si, well, he said that it was an abrupt decision. He was visiting some people in the area about purchasing a vineyard. I guess his wine brand—oh, what was it called? Mamá will remember. Anyway, he was in the area talking to people, and he stopped by our house one day,"_  she explained as if it were simple.  _"He said you'd told him that mamá y papa were well versed in wine and that they could give him a good opinion."_

Antonio didn't know whether it was the pulse in his ears or chest that was beating faster. "Oh."

 _"He was lovely though. He talked about how you two worked together for a while. He said you didn't know anything about wine, but you were decent with the grapes,"_  she giggled happily.  _"He was pretty funny."_

Antonio laughed along, though his cheeks were hot. He didn't know whether it was a good or bad thing Lovino decided to visit his parents. "Yeah, he is pretty funny," he agreed. "…Did he say anything else?"

_"I don't know. Luciano and I left after a while. He talked with mamá y papa for a while after."_

Why would Lovino do that? What did that even mean? What did he say?

 _"Actually, mamá would like to talk to you. Should I put her on the phone?"_  Isabel asked, her voice a bit gentler.

Antonio's breath caught. His mother wanted to talk to him? It's been a while since they're last talk. "U-um, si."

 _"Okay,"_  Isabel replied. _"Here she is."_

Some soft Spanish and shuffling echoed through the phone. Then slowly, Antonio's mother said,  _"Hola Toni…Cómo estás?"_

 

~/~

 

On the coldest day of January, Antonio moved back to the Tesoro vineyard. Francis tried to talk him out of it, and Gilbert tried too, but he just laughed them off and did it anyway.

Feliciano welcomed him back with open arms, and almost cried. There were four farmers working at the vineyard now. Feliciano said they'd been understaffed for a while anyway.

So Antonio was introduced to his new coworker, a tall, burly man named Ivan. He was thankful that there was at least one other person to offset the stoic Berwald and Kiku.

 

~/~

 

It really was cold though. Why was it so deathly cold?

 

~/~

 

Antonio looked at the temperature one day: fifty degrees Fahrenheit. And he was wearing pants, long-sleeves, a jacket, and scarf.

So why were his hands almost numb?

 

~/~

 

It occurred to him on the first day in February to go to church. He didn't know why the thought flew by; it must have been years since he's stepped foot inside one. He wondered whether he should go or not. He wondered for a while.

 

~/~

 

When he decided to visit the church, he remembered why he never set foot in them anymore. They were so cold. Freezing really. And there was something about the stone and the high ceilings that made Antonio yawn—he never understood why that was.

But his dreams were becoming more and more frequent, to the point where if he did sleep, he always had nightmares. Maybe that was why he was yawning.

He thought maybe he should try praying for Lovino. He hadn't tried it since he was a child, but he thought maybe this was the time to do it again. Lovino was probably very scared, or very angry. Most likely both. And Antonio worried for him everyday. Although a part of him was furious with Lovino, and was even indignant enough to never want to see him again—he knew it was a lie.

Of course, Antonio was frustrated with him. But he couldn't actually be angry with Lovi. Not really. Maybe if Lovino was actually in his arms he'd let himself be angry for a minute, but when he was still by himself, he just couldn't be.

Because he missed him. He missed him dearly.

As he was praying for Lovino's health and safety, he heard soft footsteps echo nearby. He didn't think there was anyone else in the church. It was well after mass.

"Antonio?"

He lifted his head up at the sound of his name and turned around. "Oh.  _Hola_  Jeanne!" he said and smiled. Swiftly, Antonio rose from his kneel and sat awkwardly in the pew. He didn't know why he felt embarrassed all of a sudden.

Jeanne seemed to think it was amusing as well, and her grey eyes danced. "I've never seen you in church before."

He chuckled and scratched the back of his head. " _Si_ , I don't usually come. I just…felt like it today, I guess."

"Hm, that's interesting," she replied, and her lips turned up in a secretive smile. She looked like she was ready to laugh. "You know, there was someone here just before you."

He tilted his head questioningly.

"After mass, when I was talking with the priest about something, Lovino ran into me."

_What?_

"We talked for quite a while about this and that. He got here two days ago apparently. I didn't even know."

_Neither did I._

His eyes refocused, and he saw Jeanne was looking at him tenderly.

"He looked well," she added softly.

_Oh, thank God._

"Happy?" he asked.

That made Jeanne flash a full smile. "It's hard to tell with him. But he didn't seem unhappy."

Antonio laughed breathily. "I didn't even know he was here."  _Should I still be ecstatic, or am I more angry now?_

"I think Feli and Tino were the only ones," she speculated.

Antonio was in the midst of nodding his head when the adrenaline hit him. His heart sped and his eyes glanced towards the door. Why was he not running already?

He felt Jeanne's hand on his shoulder and shifted his gaze back to her.

"Let me offer some advice, Antonio," she said. "Let him come to you this time."

Antonio's mind halted. Why did he have such a sense of déjà vu right now?

Jeanne was still staring at him, and her grey eyes were bold. "I think you've done enough of the chasing now. Don't you think it's Lovino's turn?"

_"You should let him seduce you this time."_

That's what Marie said too.

Slowly, that long ago and almost forgotten feeling sank into his skin. He felt his eyes sparkle and his smile brighten. His hands were suddenly warm again, and he felt…like it was summer again.

"I suppose," he started, and gave Jeanne a genuine smile. "I suppose I can let him try."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *First poem is “Cancion Amarga” by Julia de Burgos
> 
> **English translation:  
> Nothing troubles my being, but I am sad.  
> Something slow and dark strikes me,  
> though just behind this agony,  
> I have held the stars in my hand.  
> It must be the caress of the useless,  
> the unending sadness of being a poet,  
> of singing and singing, without breaking  
> the greatest tragedy of existence.  
> To be and not want to be... that's the motto,  
> the battle that exhausts all expectation,  
> to find, when the soul is almost dead,  
> that the miserable body still has strength.  
> Forgive me, oh love, if I do not name you!  
> Apart from your song I am dry wing.  
> Death and I sleep together . . .  
> Only when I sing to you, I awake.
> 
> ***The second poem is “They are not long, the days of wine and roses” by Ernest Dowson
> 
> \--
> 
> I hope everyone's having a wonderful holiday season! Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story! It really means so much.  
> I'm still going strong on time management it seems, so hopefully the next chapter will be out very soon!


	11. Cortese

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lovino's back, and things come alive again.

"Lovi!"

"Lovi!~"

"Looo-viiiiii!~"

"Looo-viiii-nooo!~"

Once the name-calling had reached about five minutes, Lovino had about enough. He wrenched open his bedroom door, and yelled, "What?!"

Feliciano's giggle echoed up the stairs. "Ve~ I was just calling you down for dinner."

"Damn bastard," Lovino muttered to himself; but he shuffled down the staircase anyway. He hadn't eaten since breakfast.

Feliciano was waiting for him by the doorway, bright and smiling as always. Tino wasn't there—he must have been out for whatever reason. (Probably because of his strange statue of a boyfriend.)

"I made  _gnocchi alla Romana_! I know you like them," Feli said happily, and skipped towards the table. It was already set, with a clean tablecloth and shiny silverware. It looked as though Feliciano spent some time on it.

Lovino narrowed his eyes suspiciously, and sat down. "What is this?" he asked.

"It's dinner!" Feli replied as he took his seat across. "I just thought I'd do something nice. This is the first dinner we've had together since you've been gone. You're always up in your room."

Lovino's ears burned and he glanced down at the table as he fiddled with his fork. "It's the jetlag. I'm still on Verona time."

"Hmm." Feliciano nodded his head in understanding and poured some wine.

Usually, Lovino would've been curious to know which one, where it come from, was it theirs…but not tonight. He was tired, and the wine was dark and enticing, so he drank it without question. He wanted to taste the alcohol. He wanted to feel lighter.

"So how was church?" Feliciano asked as he cut up his gnocchi.

The question still sent a jolt of panic through Lovino's veins and he hoped the twitch in his shoulders wasn't obvious. "It was fine," he muttered. Feliciano looked like he was waiting for more, so he added, "I saw Jeanne there."

"Oh, really? I haven't seen her in a while. You know, I think she and Francis are pretty serious," Feliciano gushed, his smile broadening. "Ve~ they're so cute. I hope we get invited to their wedding."

"They're getting married?" Lovino asked, though he wasn't really that curious. He liked Jeanne, but he still didn't understand how she could stand Francis. He was just too…too—just too goddamn much.

Feliciano shook his head. "No. Well, not yet anyway," he laughed.

Lovino rolled his eyes and poured his second glass of wine. Food didn't really interest him at the moment.

The silence that had settled was perfectly fine with Lovino. But minutes went by, and the silence began to stretch out further and further. Dread settled in Lovino's stomach, because some part of him knew what was to happen next.

"Lovi," Feliciano began slowly. His voice was very careful. "You still haven't told me why you left."

_That was it._

Lovino pressed his lips together and stared at his fourth glass of wine.

"Can't you tell me?" Feliciano pleaded, his voice more desperate.

Blood was pounding under Lovino's skin, and every instinct within himself was saying not to look at Feliciano's eyes. But he did anyway.

"Lovi, please," Feliciano said, and he leaned across the table. "We used to tell each other everything."

Lovino scoffed. "Yeah, like when we were five," he mumbled.

Feliciano wasn't very amused, and hurt flashed across his eyes.

Lovino turned away. "I-it's not a big deal," he said softly. "I just…needed to go away for a while."

"Yes?" Feliciano urged.

Lovino curled his fingers into his palm and dug them deep. "I was just confused about something. And I thought that if I went away, I'd figure everything out." He was hoping Feliciano wouldn't make him explain it explicitly. Because he couldn't. He just  _couldn't_. And he knew Feliciano must already know. They've always known more about each other than they let on.

"Well…have you?"

Lovino's face flushed darker, and he wished he could just tuck himself into a ball and never see daylight again. "…Yeah," he murmured softly.

Feliciano's shriek of glee sent him standing straight again, and he felt waves and waves of heat wash over his face. Why could Feli make anything ten times more embarrassing?

"What?" he snapped, and tried his very hardest to seem menacing—though he knew it wasn't working.

Feliciano's eyes glistened and he looked like he might cry. "Oh, Lovi! I'm so happy! I'm so proud of you! Ve~ this is so exciting!"

"You don't even know what the hell I'm talking about!"

Feliciano giggled and gave Lovino one of those rare devious smiles that he didn't show anyone else. "Ve~…"

Lovino almost choked on his wine. "Sh-shut up!" he shouted. "You don't know, damn it!"

Feliciano just kept laughing. "Have you talked to Toni yet?"

Now Lovino was outright choking on his wine. Once he could control his breathing he scowled and turned away, though he knew his skin was on fire. "Why would I talk to him?" he replied indignantly.

Feliciano didn't buy it for a second, and just laughed harder. "You're so cute  _fratello_!"

"No, I'm not, damn it! Take me seriously already," he demanded, but it didn't look like Feliciano was letting up anytime soon. So Lovino stumbled to his feet and grabbed his dinner plate and the bottle of wine. "Forget it, I'm going to my room."

He expected Feliciano to shout and run after him, because Feliciano always shouted and ran after him. But that's not what happened, and Lovino couldn't stop himself from peering over his shoulder and seeing why.

Feliciano was staring at him silently, and it just made his palms sweat anxiously. "What the fuck is it  _now_?" he cursed more afraid than exasperated.

Feliciano sighed and he looked back at his plate. "You're always running away, aren't you Lovi?"

_What?_

_No. No, I—_

"I'm not good at anything else," he whispered, and he slowly retreated up the stairs.

 

~/~

 

Lovino would be lying if he said he wasn't hoping Antonio would climb the vine to his balcony window and serenade him to come out. It was stupid, and girly, and ridiculous, but  _damn it_ —he thought Antonio would actually do it.

At this point, Antonio must know he arrived. He  _must_. So Lovino was expecting some sort of ceremony from him. And it scared him that there wasn't any. What did that mean? It had been several months; perhaps Antonio had given up. But—but—he can't do that! Not after Lovino finally got a grip and admitted he might be…kind of…

…It's not as if Lovino hadn't thought of sauntering through the aisles of the vineyards and casually run into Antonio like he did two times before. But there was something about being the one to search him out that terrified him. What if Antonio was angry with him? What if he was furious? What if he didn't care at all?

God, if Lovino wasn't insecure before, he certainly was now. Last time, he was constantly pushing away Antonio's affections – albeit not always that forcefully. But this time, Lovino was afraid he wouldn't have them at all…

 

~/~

 

Of course, another night passed, and Antonio hadn't come. Time had always made Lovino impatient, and he determined that at this point he was going to have to arrange some sort of run-in himself.

So in the morning, Lovino dressed with extra and particular care. Somehow, taking the time to dress up soothed him, and he always felt more comfortable once he was wearing his tasteful, and fashionable clothes. And usually, something like that would be enough, but with the prospect of running into Antonio after months—after they had some sort of undefined summer fling that was never really stated…Lovino was worried maybe he changed for the worse.

When he finished dressing, Lovino found himself pacing all the hallways. He was trying to work the nerve to knock on Feli's door, and in one moment of braveness (or weakness, depending on how you look at it), Lovino tapped his knuckles to the wood.

Feli had ears like a cat when it came to certain things, and at once he called, "Come in!"

Lovino held his breath and turned the cold doorknob. Inside, Feliciano was lying on his bed with his journal and watercolors spread about beside him. He smiled when he saw Lovi.

"Ve~ what is it?"

Lovino pressed his lips together and glanced down. "I was just stopping by for your opinion…"

"Yes?" Feli urged.

More and more heat washed over Lovino's skin. "…on my outfit," he finished.

Feli gasped, but he didn't shriek, which was slightly better, Lovino supposed.

"Oh, I think you look very handsome, Lovi! You always do," Feli exclaimed excitedly, and too sincerely.

"Liar," Lovino mumbled, and he crossed his arms.

Feliciano only laughed because he knew it was no use arguing with Lovino when he didn't want to listen. But he could tell by the shift in Lovino's stance, and the tremble in his hands, that he had something more to say.

"Yes?" Feli encouraged again.

Lovino flinched, and bit his lip. "I was wondering," he began. "Um…what do I even say to him?"

Feli looked at him, and his eyes softened. Then slowly, his lips turned up in a gentler smile. "Just start with hello."

Lovino huffed and he turned towards the door again. "You make it sound easy."

"It's only two syllables," Feli pointed out lightly. "Even you can manage that."

There are a lot of syllables that are much easier to say. A few curses come to mind…

_Hello._

It sounded so easy. But still—"What will he say?" he asked fearfully.

Feliciano just shrugged his shoulders helplessly. "I don't know," he said. "You'll have to find out."

Lovino's heart stuttered, and he huffed.

"Of course, you'd say that," he muttered, and he walked out the door. He twisted his hands nervously together as he walked. Each step he took closer to Antonio sounded like the echo of his heart. But he kept going anyway.

He stopped at the kitchen window on his way to the front door. It was his old watch post, and it had a clear view of the lemon tree that sat on the rolling hill outside. So tentatively, Lovino sifted his fingers through the blinds and lifted them enough to peer through. It was bright, but he could see. And he could see the outline of Antonio leaning against the tree. Antonio. It was him.

Lovino didn't even have to see his face. Just the curves of the arm, the silhouette of his back, and the way sunlight shimmered around was enough. It was Antonio. Of course it was.

He didn't let himself think, and just willed himself towards the front door. Right now, he could just hear his grandfather's voice yelling,  _There are times to be lazy and times not to be. But lazy in love?..._

 _Italians are_  never _lazy in love._

God, his grandfather was such a moron.

But Lovino wrenched open the door anyway, and shut it quietly behind himself. His breath came faster and he checked to make sure Antonio hadn't heard him. Though, if Antonio had, perhaps Lovino wouldn't have to be the one to initiate things. If only that was the case.

Like he practiced dozens of times in his head, Lovino sauntered slowly towards the tree. He tried to keep his breathing in check, and his hands in his pockets, and it felt like an eternity to walk over.

Antonio must have heard him.

His footsteps started crunching grass and he winced at the sound.

Antonio must have heard him.

He kept walking. Walking and walking and walking.  _God damn his motherfucking asshole of a famil—_

"Hello," he blurted.

Antonio was staring at the horizon, and his lips in a small smile; but at the sound of Lovino's voice he turned around. And their eyes met.

 _This was what it felt like,_  Lovino thought. He'd almost forgotten this feeling. His dreams didn't do it justice. In real life, there was something inexplicably incandescent about Antonio. Lovino had always compared him to a wildfire, and it was true. Even now, when Antonio sat still, he glowed from the  _inside_ , and it was something Lovino's dreams could never capture.

Antonio appeared to be pondering what Lovino said for a few moments too long. He was still smiling, but there was a hard sheen to his eyes that Lovino couldn't break through. They were as hard as emeralds.

"So you decided to come back," Antonio said finally.

It would have been so wonderful to hear that accent again if it didn't sound so angry.

Lovino flushed and shifted his gaze away. "Yeah," he mumbled.

Antonio hummed thoughtfully. "And why is that?"

 _Oh, God. That was the question._  "W-well, I…" he began weakly, and his eyes wandered to Antonio's again. "I just thought I should."

Antonio tilted his head and smiled dryly. "You never said goodbye, you know."

 _Because you wouldn't have let me._  "Yeah."

"You didn't try to talk to me."

 _Because I couldn't talk to anyone._  "Yeah."

There was a longer pause. "It's been  _six_ months, Lovino," Antonio said seriously, and his voice missed the tenderness Lovino was accustomed to.

And there was something about other's people's anger that boiled Lovino's own blood, and he felt himself growing defensive by the second. "Look, if you're angry with me, just blurt it out already! I can take it!" He prepared for the reply, and it didn't even take Antonio a second.

"I am angry," he said, and his eyes regarded Lovino sharply. "Actually, I'm furious." His voice sounded furious, but his eyes just seemed guarded, and his lips that were so used to smiling…they just looked tired.

"Well," Lovino stammered, and his balled his hands into fists. "Good for you! See if I fucking care! Yell at me all you want! I know you want to, damn it!"

Antonio laughed, and it sounded so bitter and harsh, Lovino flinched. "I can't yell at you," he replied.

"Why the hell not?" Lovino shouted. He wanted Antonio to yell at him now. At least let it out in the open. He can't take secrecy. He can't take it.

But Antonio just looked at him as if it was obvious, and he smiled more tenderly. "Because I love you," he murmured. The words rushed to Lovino's ears as if they were amorous whispers. Antonio continued, "I don't think I could ever yell at you. Not really."

Waves of heat washed over Lovino's skin, and he almost wanted to cry. But he managed a decent frown and muttered, "You're an idiot."

"I probably am," Antonio agreed, and his eyes shined again. "After all, I did wait for you when there was a chance you would never come back."

Lovino tapped his foot and debated whether he should step closer or just make a break for it now. "Well, I did come back," he mumbled. And belatedly, he added a weak, "…so there."

Antonio laughed again, and it was just as grating. "Oh, Lovino. You can be so cruel when you want to be," he pointed out and smiled at him. Despite the sadness that lingered on his lips, there was an unmistakable glimmer of love in his eyes.  _Stupid Antonio._  "Even though I'm angry, I can't help but forgive you," he said helplessly.

Lovino's eyes burned and he took a few steps closer. "You shouldn't," he grumbled, and sat down slowly in the grass a few steps away from Antonio.

"I know," Antonio agreed, and his voice took on something more musical. "But I assume you're trying to make it up to me."

Lovino felt burned, like Antonio's fire licked all of the skin exposed. "Don't just assume things."

"No?" Antonio mocked, and his tone was amused. It was better than angry at least.

Lovino fixed the collar of his jacket habitually, and clarified in his coolest voice, "No." He still felt as though there was a buzzing air of mirth between them, like Antonio knew something more. He deliberately ignored it and tried to persevere, "So, um…h-how have you been?" He glanced at Antonio from the corner of his eye.

"Hm, well, about the same for the past few months. January was interesting," he commented lightly.

"Oh," Lovino replied, and Antonio just nodded. Of course the bastard would be so secretive. He always was.

"How about you?" Antonio asked, and he grinned. "Did you travel anywhere interesting?"

The question prompted Lovino to look away again and his breath came quicker. "Not really," he said casually. "Europe's all about the same."

"Hm," Antonio hummed musically. "Is that so?"

Lovino's heart pinched and twisted and he swore in that moment that Antonio knew what he did. Despite all of the precautions he took, despite all of the goddamn instructions he gave, he swore that Antonio knew.

Suddenly, Lovino's throat clenched, and his eyes stung. He could feel the emotions he'd kept at bay in the recesses of his mind running forth and god, did he hate it. This was exactly what he was avoiding. He didn't want Antonio to see just how…

"Lovino?" Antonio called, and his voice sounded much nearer, and much gentler.

Lovino clawed at his scalp with one hand, and wrapped his other around his knees as he buried his face in between them. The thoughts just echoed continuously in his head:

_I'm such an idiot. I'm so stupid. God, I'm so stupid. I'm so fucking stupid. So goddamn stupid. A no good son of a bitch selfish asshole who fucking runs away from every problem, he…_

"I-I'm sorry," he choked, and the sobs just started coming. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I was stupid. I didn't think—I didn't know. I-I'm sorry, Antonio. I'm—"

Antonio's arms were around Lovino's body, and his voice was next to his ear. "Shh, Lovino. It's okay," he whispered, and his voice mixed with worry and confusion. "Everything's okay,  _mi amor_. I understand. I was just being difficult."

"No, I-I was being difficult," Lovino cried, and his fingers dug harder into his scalp. "As always," he lamented "As fucking always…"

Antonio's warm and calloused hands covered Lovino's fingers, and pried them away from his hair. "That's not true. I knew you were scared, and I knew you were confused. I knew  _why_  you did it. It just made me said," he explained smoothly, and his thumb brushed over the top of Lovino's hand. "It's always been two steps forward and one step backwards with you. I've known that from the beginning."

Lovino coughed on another sob, and he tightened his grip on his legs. "I-I'm sorry, Antonio. I'm still so sorry. I was cruel, you're right. I'm sor—"

"It's okay," Antonio interrupted swiftly, and he tried in vain to uncover Lovino's face. "You've already apologized. In more than one way. And I'm thankful." Antonio kissed Lovino's hair. "I've missed you so much," he murmured.

Lovino's chest quieted and fresh tears stopped falling. He bit his lip several times, but eventually, he managed the softest whisper, saying, "I've…missed you too."

Antonio laughed, and a few tears escaped his own eyes. He kissed the top of Lovino's head again, and his hands and ears. Eventually, he grew frustrated, and pleaded, "Lovi, all I've wanted to do since you left is take you into my arms and kiss you. And you've made me wait six months and two days. Can you please come out?"

Lovino could feel a dull heat return to his cheeks and he sniffed at Antonio's ridiculous words. He released a shaky sigh, and tentatively lifted his head and met Antonio's very near, and very bright face. Lovino could feel tears bubble up again. "I'm so sor—"

Antonio didn't wait. He captured Lovino's lips as soon as he could, and Lovino couldn't even be angry for it. Antonio was so strong and passionate, but there was indescribable gentility to him, and he always kissed Lovino that way. His lips may have been chapped and dry from the sun, but they didn't feel that way. He was just so…warm. Skin, hands, lips, hair, voice: all of it was warm and tender and Lovino just needed it. He needed all of it. He needed Antonio. He was an idiot for leaving and an idiot for staying away, but he did realize it eventually.

They fell back on the grass, and Antonio broke the kiss to gaze at Lovino again. The anger wasn't there anymore, though Lovino knew it should've been. Antonio looked at him like he looked at him before. Like Lovino was a shooting star Antonio had caught before he hit the Earth. Just a rock that was painted up in so much glamour, that was never worth more than a dime, yet to someone who cared, it was more precious than all of the stars that still glittered in the sky.

 _God, Antonio is so stupid,_ Lovino thought as he brushed his fingers near Antonio hair. They were just staring at each other. Like they couldn't believe the other was there.

Eventually, Lovino sighed and closed his eyes. "I don't know who's the bigger idiot anymore. Me or you."

Antonio chuckled and leaned closer. His breath tickled Lovino's ears, then he whispered, "We are all fools in love,  _querido_."

Lovino huffed and swallowed his denials. "Just shut up and kiss me," he ordered.

And Antonio was more than willing to comply.

 

~/~

 

Lovino stomped through the front door, and passed Feliciano sitting on the couch.

"Ve~ Lovi, how did it go?" he called and rushed to his feet.

"Fine," Lovino muttered, and he continued up the stairs.

Feliciano giggled and exclaimed, "Your face is all red! It must have gone really well!"

Lovino turned around ready to yell, but the eye contact just sent his face burning ten times more, and he couldn't do it. He rushed inside of his room. And since he was alone, he smiled.

_He did it._

 

~/~

 

"Lovi.  _Lovi._  Lovino. My Lovino…" Antonio hummed as he caressed the sides of Lovino's face the next day.

They were in the aisles of the vineyards very early in the morning, because Lovino was obviously still jetlagged and thought he might as well take a walk to tire himself out. But Antonio tackled him like Lovino was a mirage in the desert, and was basically kissing any available parts of his skin.

"God, bastard," Lovino mumbled, and he held Antonio's shoulders to push him away. "Stop just saying my name," he complained. "You sound crazy."

"You're still here though. Don't I get the right to be happy?" Antonio grinned, and his eyes sparkled various shades of green. "For once this isn't a dream."

"You think I would look this homeless in a dream?" Lovino demanded, and he gestured to his basic apparel and mussed hair.

Antonio glanced at him a bit differently, and his smile took on something more mischievous. "It depends on what we've been doing," he said huskily.

Lovino flushed, and shoved him away in an instant. "What the hell happens in those perverted dreams of yours, you bastard?!"

"Do you really want to know?" Antonio sing-songed and stepped closer.

"No! Damn it, shut up. You—" Lovino stopped and accidentally looked at Antonio's eyes again. The eyes that made him melt. "You…" he whispered, and he trailed his eyes to the ground. "D-do you want to like…um…go on a— _you know_."

"A date?" Antonio prompted happily, but also rather surprised.

Lovino blushed and crossed his arms. He nodded.

"I'd love that," Antonio said and he wrapped his arms around Lovino again. "You still have to catch me up on your trip after all," he added.

Lovino flinched, and he tucked his head in the crook of Antonio's shoulder. "I didn't do anything, really," he mumbled.

His heart thudded relentlessly against Antonio's chest.

Slowly, Antonio gave a thoughtful hum, and it said  _I don't believe you_.

 

~/~

 

They couldn't go that same day. Lovino was chained to his desk, phone and computer for the rest of the afternoon trying to organize the buyers and deals as best he could. There was a lot that Feliciano had ignored to do in his time away, but Feliciano never cared for the business side, so it wasn't a surprise.

Antonio would've visited him in the evening, but he was called away to rescue a very drunk Gilbert, who had somehow gotten lost a ways away from his bar.

So it was the next day that Antonio rolled out Berwald's old and weathered truck to the fork where the paths met, and Lovino was standing nonchalantly with a basket and blanket under his arms.

Antonio insisted that driving Berwald's car would be more comfortable, but Lovino still complained the entire way about how old, and dusty, and old, and just  _old_  the car was. He thought they should've stolen Feliciano's car before he had a chance to visit the potato bastard. Antonio just laughed him off and changed the topic of conversation.

"You look very handsome," Antonio commented after their silence had dragged on for a while.

Lovino blushed and glared at the window. More particularly, the looming clouds swirling overhead. "Shut up," he said. And more quietly, he added, "…You always look handsome, damn it."

Antonio heard it, but he knew he wasn't meant to acknowledge it. So he grinned to himself and let his eyes wander the road.

"H-have you ever…done this?" Lovino asked suddenly.

Antonio peered at him. "Done what?" He could see Lovino's hands clench in a fist. It must have been something embarrassing to say.

"Like—have you ever been in love?" Lovino asked slowly.

Antonio laughed a bit uncontrollably, and only stopped when Lovino punched his arm.

"I'm being serious here!"

Antonio kept chuckling. " _Si_ , I know.  _Lo siento_ ," he apologized in Spanish, knowing Lovino blushed more when he did. He turned on the blinkers and made a turn. "I've never been in love before. Not really."

"Oh," Lovino deflated and dropped his fist. "That's surprising."

"Is it?"

"You seem like the type to fall in love all the time."

Antonio thought for a moment. "And why is that?"

" _Tsk_ ," Lovino's ears reddened in frustration. "I don't know how to explain it. You just do. You're passionate. You seem to like everyone."

"I can't tell if you're lowing your opinion of me or yourself," Antonio jeered lightly.

Lovino exhaled heavily and started again, "I'm just saying…you're a lot like Feliciano. And he fell in love all the time. He gives a piece of his heart to every damn stranger he winks at."

"Then why are you so worried about his relationship with Ludwig?"

Lovino glowered at the clouds. "Because I don't like him," he muttered stubbornly.

Antonio smiled, mostly amused, but also something else. "Just because Feliciano and I are sociable, that doesn't mean we sleep with everyone we know. And it doesn't mean we fall in love with every person we sleep with," he said, and his voice was tender. "I think…those relationships I had in Spain—I thought I was in love each time. Feliciano might've thought that too. I didn't realize what love was like until I fell in love with you."

Lovino was so embarrassed he didn't know whether he wanted to curse, scream, or hug Antonio. He even thought about kissing Antonio, and moved in that direction. But he thought better of it, and shifted in his seat.

If Antonio noticed, he didn't comment on it. Instead, he parked the car and unbuckled his seatbelt. Then he eyed Lovino. "How about you?"

Lovino's head perked up like he had misheard. "What?"

"Have you ever been in love before?" Antonio asked curiously, and his eyes followed Lovino intently. This was one of those times Antonio was as attentive as a cat.

Lovino scoffed and unbuckled his own seatbelt with trembling fingers. "What does it look like to you? I'm not the type to whistle  _Ciao bella_  at every pretty thing that walks by. I'm not that sort of Italian," he grumbled, and gripped the door handle. Antonio's hand was on his wrist before he could open it though.

Their eyes met, and Antonio said, "I think you have."

Lovino's eyes hardened and he gave Antonio a serious look. "And why is that?"

"Because I think somehow…you knew what was going on earlier than I did," Antonio replied delicately. "I assumed that was why you were so afraid."

"I wasn't afrai—" Lovino bean to protest, but one flash of Antonio's eyes made him stop. He blushed instead. "I wasn't  _that_ afraid."

Raindrops hit the windshield, and both shifted their gazes to stare.

"Oh no!"

"God damn it."

They both complained, and then looked at each other. Antonio smiled and Lovino bit his lip so he wouldn't.

"Should we eat in the car?" Antonio asked.

"God, this is so cheap," Lovino lamented, but he started unpacking his food anyway. Out came another pasta salad, but of a different variety, followed by bread, parmesan, pesto, and a large and very grand bottle of wine.

"What's that?" Antonio questioned and grasped the bottle so he could read the label. "Oh! You brought some of Francis's champagne! Wow, he'll really love that," Antonio laughed.

Lovino gaped at him, before grabbing the bottle and reading the label. "Holy shit," Lovino groaned. "I grabbed the wrong bottle by mistake. Feliciano must have changed the arrangement. God, I can't believe…" he trailed off and made eye contact with Antonio. "You better not breathe a word of this to either of your friends, got that? Not one of them."

"Aw, but what about Gilbert?" Antonio complained joyfully.

"He's just as bad a gossip as you two are!" Lovino shouted and he set to work on opening the bottle. "Pass me that would you?"

Antonio handed him the bottle opener and Lovino uncapped it in a matter of seconds.

"You know what's interesting," Antonio began curiously.

Lovino rolled his eyes and poured a large glass of champagne for himself before passing it to Antonio. "What?" he asked sarcastically.

"I was thinking—"

"That is interesting," Lovino joked lightly, and he hid his smile in his cup.

Antonio smirked, but continued, "I was thinking that it's interesting that even though you're such a big wine person, I don't think I've ever seen you drunk."

Lovino lifted his chin, and looked at Antonio meaningfully. "That's because I'm Italian. I'm no lightweight."

Antonio smiled a bit more wickedly, like he thought of a very fun game. "I wonder what you're like when you're drunk."

"I'm not like anything," Lovino said and he took another large sip. "Because I don't get drunk."

"Hmm."

"I'm definitely not as sappy as you when you're drunk," Lovino remarked.

Antonio chuckled and messed with his hair embarrassedly. "I wouldn't say I'm sappy, really."

"You're definitely some sort of old romantic," Lovino said as he thought of the wine tasting last spring. "I feel like you'd be the type to sing songs and poetry and crap."

"Francis and Gilbert have some fun stories about that," Antonio replied, his voice rather nostalgic. Then he glanced at Lovino again. "But I wonder what you're like…" he wondered again.

Lovino flushed and finished his glass. "I told you already, I don't get drunk. So stop asking." He gestured for Antonio to fill his glass again, and Antonio did.

 

~/~

 

They skipped through a myriad of topics whilst they dined in the car. Despite the overly dramatic reunion, there was still an odd tension that hung in the air between them. Perhaps it was only in Lovino's head, but he didn't think that was the case.

Maybe it was just time. There was almost too much to say, and neither of them had ever been very good at telling the truth.

Eventually, after Lovino was appropriately buzzed, and his words left easily, he felt comfortable to answer Antonio's earlier question. "It wasn't really…love. But, I did have a crush on someone a long time ago in Catholic school," he confessed shyly.

That peaked Antonio's interest, and his eyes sparked. "Someone?"

Lovino bit the inside of his cheek as his face grew hot. "…A boy I knew," he mumbled. "Anyway, it got me in trouble, and the nuns freaked out, and they called the headmaster, and it was just…a mess."

"Lovi," Antonio cooed, and he leaned over the armrest to kiss his cheek. "I was getting kind of jealous until you got sad."

Lovino huffed and glared weakly at Antonio. "Don't get jealous about something so stupid."

Antonio smiled slightly, but looked at him with a glimmer of desperation. "Do you love me, Lovi?"

Lovino froze, and his eyes widened just as his body stiffened. "…What do you think?" he asked slowly.

Antonio's hands caressed the sides of Lovino's face, and his eyes lulled over his features softly and lovingly. "I think you haven't told me yet."

"Haven't you assumed that I—"

"I haven't heard it from your lips," Antonio interrupted, and his voice was deeper, stronger. It was that rare commanding voice, Lovino rarely heard.

Lovino didn't want to hear it. Because he couldn't say no, but he couldn't say yes either. He wasn't ready. He just wasn't. But he had to let Antonio know somehow, so tentatively, he grasped the back of Antonio's neck, and led him into a kiss. Lovino took control and kissed him deliberately and deeply, and with every nip and tug of his lips he screamed  _I love you. I love you. I really do. Of course I do._

Antonio let himself be kissed, and he didn't beg Lovino for the actual words.

At the end of the day, they didn't eat much of the pasta Lovino had brought. But the champagne bottle was completely empty.

Antonio thought Francis would be pleased about that.

 

~/~

 

"You have a cell phone, right?" Lovino asked quietly. He was leaning against the doorway. It was dark outside, but the lamplight framed him from behind.

Antonio was already smiling, but his lips quirked in amusement. "I do."

Lovino stared at his shoes, and reached inside his jeans pocket. He retrieved a folded slip of paper and shoved it to Antonio. "Here," he muttered. "So you don't have to climb the balcony when you're in one of those moods."

Antonio grasped it and turned it over. "Oh! Is this your number?"

"What else would it be?" Lovino crossed his arms.

Antonio grinned and shoved it in his jacket pocket. "So I can call you?"

"What else would it be for?" Lovino demanded and his ears burned. "Stop asking stupid questions," he murmured more quietly.

Antonio leaned closer and kissed Lovino's cheek. "Can I still visit the balcony if I want to?"

Lovino turned his face away and twisted his fingers in the fabric of his sleeve. "I told you to stop asking stupid questions," he repeated softly.

Antonio chuckled and kissed him goodnight.

 

~/~

 

_Ring!_

_Ring!_

_Rin—_

_"…"_

"Ah, Lovi?"

_"…Who else would it be?"_

Antonio laughed and glanced up at the balcony window. It was the only room lit now. "You didn't answer the phone though."

_"I figured you would do that for me."_

"Hm, you know me too well," Antonio said and he laughed again when he heard Lovino's incoherent grumbles through the phone. "Did you have a good time today?"

_"You asked me this like a thousand times already."_

"I just want to hear it again.~"

 _"Bastard,"_ Lovino mumbled.  _"Yeah…I had a good time."_

Antonio smiled and kept his gaze on the golden window. He was outside on the picnic bench, and though normally he would've been freezing around this time—he felt pretty warm tonight. "Okay, let's play some games."

 _"Games?"_  Lovino repeated, and Antonio dared to hope there was a hint of curiosity there.

_"Si! Let's tell each other how much we love each other with every letter of the alphabet!"_

_"Oh my god,"_ Lovino cried.  _"Do you actually think I'd do that?"_

"Should we start with something simpler?"

_"I feel like you're only half listening to me."_

"Okay, let's share our dreams with each other!"

 _"…Did you steal these from some teen magazine?"_  Lovino questioned playfully.

"You really do know me too well," Antonio joked. When Lovino's laugh echoed lightly through the phone, Antonio's heart raced and he grinned even broader. "Okay, how about I start," he said. "My dream…is to live on a large and beautiful ranch with land and animals; and where I can grow all of the plants I want. Maybe I sell some of my things at the farmers' market too."

 _"You basically have that now,"_  Lovino pointed out teasingly.

"Oh, also, I'd like to move in with you one day, and maybe get married." Antonio added. He watched the window as if he could see Lovino's flushed face.

But Lovino didn't quite react in the way he expected.

 _"What kind of order is that? You think I'd really let you move in before we got married? Damn bastard,"_  he muttered, and before Antonio could interrupt, Lovino continued _. "I guess…I'd like to start my own wine brand one day. Just a small one."_

"Oh, really?" Antonio asked, a bit surprised. "Do you not like working for your family?"

 _"That's not really it,"_  Lovino sighed.  _"It's just exhausting. I feel like I've seen the whole world at this point. I'd rather just have my own place and watch the grapes grow."_

"That's so cute!"

 _"Don't call my dreams cute,"_  Lovino mumbled, and  _Yes. Lovino was obviously blushing now._

"How can I not call them cute?" Antonio smiled. "Well, I guess we have pretty similar dreams, huh?"

 _"Well, actually I would also like…"_  Lovino stopped, like he realized what he was about to say.

"What is it?" Antonio pressed.

_"Um…nothing. Never mind."_

Antonio pouted. "Aw, Lovi! Don't do that! I can't even see your face to know what you were thinking?"

_"You can't read my mind!"_

"When I can see you I can."

 _"…Whatever,"_  Lovino mumbled dismissively.

A minute passed, and it was still quiet.

"Are you really not going to tell me?"

_"Are you really not going to leave it alone?"_

Antonio sighed as dramatically and wistfully as possible. It was a cheap shot, but he knew Lovino was still feeling guilty, and would cave anytime he wanted.

And like clockwork…

 _"All right, fine! Always got to have it your way,"_  Lovino grumbled, and he lowered his voice very quietly. _"I was just going to say how in the future, I might…kind of want to have…kids. Or a kid. Or something."_

Silence.

_"Antonio?"_

More silence.

_"Oh fuck. You're making a big deal out of this aren't you?"_

…

_"Let me just say shut up before you get a chance to blurt whatever you're thinking in that strange mind of yo—"_

"Lovino, I would gladly have your kids for you."

 _"SHUT UP, I said!"_  Lovino shouted.  _"Damn it. All I was saying was that I kind of wanted to be father to someone other than Feli. Though now I'm thinking you might take his place."_

Antonio laughed and the ache to hold Lovino was stronger than ever. Even a few hours apart was a struggle.

He looked at the sky and saw some of the clouds part for the waning moon.

"Hey Lovi," Antonio called gently.

_"Yeah?"_

"Are we in a relationship now?"

Lovino paused _. "Y-yeah,"_  he mumbled.  _"We are."_

Antonio smiled more tenderly. "I'm glad."

It took a moment, but then came the quiet reply _, "…me too."_

 

~/~

 

It was love. It was truly and obviously love.

As the trees and flowers blossomed and grew fuller with the promise of spring, so did Antonio and Lovino. There was something strangely melancholy about returning closer to the season where they first met. It made Lovino a little sad, Antonio could tell. He didn't really see it that way. But perhaps he was simpler, because he was always in a hurry to escape winter.

It wasn't very long until Gilbert and Francis found out. In fact, Antonio called them as soon as Lovino gave him permission, and afterwards they went out and had a celebratory drink together. It was still true: Antonio was an incredibly sappy drunk. Lovino was forced to listen to him sing Spanish love songs when he drove him home from the bar in Feli's car.

And somewhat predictably, after Antonio told his best friends, the gossip leaked around the rest of the small town. It terrified Lovino at first. But he learned after a week that Antonio was right. Not everyone was judging him. There were some that were happy, like Emma. There were some that weren't. And there were some who didn't care. But he wasn't a pariah. And he wasn't hunted in the streets.

Slowly, they were becoming more comfortable with one another. And it was about time some of the secrets began to unravel.

 

~/~

 

They went out to dinner. It was the restaurant they went to in the summer, and Lovino said he wanted to give it another shot.

They ordered the same meals, and multiple margaritas. They'd already planned on taking a taxi home.

Antonio was looking at Lovino lovingly and unabashedly, like he always did when he was buzzed. He cared even less about what other people thought after alcohol, and Lovino hated it. That's what he said anyway.

"What is it?" Lovino demanded as he finished his second margarita.

Antonio's eyes sparkled emerald. "You're so funny," he commented. "You're not even tipsy, are you?"

Lovino smiled proudly for a second. "Of course not," he said and gestured to the waitress. "But you're just a lightweight."

Antonio hummed and followed Lovino's line of site. "Ah, actually," he began smoothly, and the waitress turned to him. "I'll take this one."

The lady smiled and put the check down, then walked away.

Lovino stared at him, and his eyes tensed automatically. "Um, you don't need to get that. I can…"

"No, no," Antonio replied and his voice was sugary sweet. "I actually have a bit more money than usual."

Lovino scoffed and glanced at him disbelievingly. "Oh really? Did you sell your bike or something?"

Antonio grinned. "Actually, I was on the phone with my parents the other day. They said hello, and asked me how I was doing. They also sent me a little bit of money."

Lovino froze in place, and his eyes slowly shifted to Antonio. "Oh," he breathed and intertwined his fingers together. "That's…nice. I'm glad."

" _Si_ ," Antonio agreed. "I am too." He watched curiously as Lovino's face blushed redder and redder. It didn't appear like Lovino was going to talk, so he did. "Lovi," he started. "Why didn't you tell me that you talked to them?"

"I didn't—" Lovino caught Antonio's stare. So he bit the inside of his cheek and corrected, "I didn't say much."

"Lovino. My parents basically disowned me. And they suddenly seemed to have come a long way. You must have said something," Antonio replied seriously, but also rather enchanted. He watched Lovino blush and fidget for moments, before adding, "That's why I came back to your vineyard."

Lovino glanced at him warily.

"I heard from Isabel that you talked to them, and then my mother wanted to speak to me," Antonio explained, and his smile was soft. "They both had wonderful things to say about you."

Lovino coughed and snatched the check from Antonio's side of the table. "Okay, how about I pay this, since you're too busy—"

"You're not the type for words, are you?" Antonio asked. "You can have charming small talk with anyone, usually women. But when it comes to saying things that truly matter, you stay away."

Lovino thumbed his credit card thoughtfully. He pressed his lips together and tried to speak. "It's hard," he whispered.

"I know."

"But I," Lovino stared at the table. "I tried…when I visited your parents—to tell you that I was… _sorry_. And I tried to talk, and be sociable and crap because I wanted to…I wanted to help," he stopped, then finished, "you."

Antonio smiled, and the doubt that encompassed his heart released itself. It may always be two steps forward and one step back with Lovino, but Antonio could find a way to make it into an interesting dance.

"I know," he said again.

Lovino ended up paying the check, but he allowed Antonio to pay the taxi drive home. They kissed by the doorway, and this time, it was harder for them to say goodbye.

 

~/~

 

"Lovi!"

Lovino glanced up from his book and spotted Feliciano bouncing off the last step. "What is it?" he asked and returned to his page.

Feliciano skipped towards him and sat on the armrest of the couch. "Ve~ I was just going to let you know I'm going."

"Going where?" Lovino asked, though he was barely listening.

Feliciano giggled – which was never a good sign – and exclaimed, "Luddy and I are going on a vacation!"

"Yeah, whatever, just…" Lovino stopped when he realized what had been said. He flashed his eyes to Feliciano. "You're what?"

"Aw, don't be bad Lovi! It's just a short one! We're just spending the weekend in San Francisco and coming straight back!"

"How can I not be mad? You're spending the weekend with him!" Lovino shouted and he dropped the book in his lap.

"Oh, and also Tino's taking this weekend off. I already said it was okay," Feliciano added slyly.

"Are you trying to make me starve?" Lovino demanded. Sure, he could cook for himself, but so early in the morning, he rarely had the energy for something like that.

Feliciano laughed again and ruffled his brother's hair. "You'll figure something out, Lovi! I'm sure you won't starve." He shot up from the cough and skipped back to his suitcases.

Lovino glared at him, but he didn't know if it was even worth fighting Feliciano on this. In the end, he would probably do what he wanted. Like always. "If the bastard tries anything, just let me know," he muttered and picked up his book again.

Feliciano smiled and his eyes sparkled. It was cute when Lovino tried to be protective, even when it wasn't feasible for him to take down Ludwig. Another thought crossed Feli's mind and he fought back a giggle. "Oh, and Lovi?"

"What?" he mumbled.

"Feel free to invite company over if you get lonely," Feliciano offered.

Lovino's eyes widened and a slow, dark blush washed over his face. "W-what kind of thing to say is that?! Damn it, just get the hell out of here already!"

Feliciano laughed, and hurriedly packed his suitcases away in the car.

 

~/~

 

Late that afternoon, Lovino crept out of the house. He didn't know why he was acting so secretively. He was the only one in the house, and one of the only one son the property at all. But still…he felt very shy when he was about to something nice. Or stupid. It ended up being the same thing.

Antonio was lying in the grass just outside the shade of the lemon tree. He must have been there for a while. It was well past his usual time for a nap.

Lovino walked as quietly as he could, until his footsteps couldn't be masked, and he crunched lightly over the grass.

Antonio stirred, but he didn't get up. He simply turned on his back and lifted an arm behind his head. "Mmm," he hummed sleepily.

Lovino circled around him until he was by his side, and he sat down cross-legged. "Isn't your siesta pretty long today?" he muttered, and trailed his eyes over Antonio's face. He looked particularly handsome today. But he's looked that way for a while. Lovino suspected it was because he was happier. Antonio always had a  _glow_  about him, but when he was happy, there was serenity too. His smile seemed brighter and easier, his body moved more gracefully, and his eyes were clear and fresh.

At that moment, Antonio shifted his gaze to Lovino, and his eyes glittered a dozen shades of green. It still made Lovino's heart race.

"I was waiting for you to stop by," Antonio confessed a little wistfully.

Lovino tilted his head down so his blush was decently hidden. "Oh," he said. A warm hand covered his own and he looked up again.

Antonio was smiling softly. "But you're here now, so why don't you join me?"

Lovino bit the inside of his cheek and dug his free hand into the grass. "U-um, actually, I was going to ask you, um…if you wanted to come…inside," he admitted awkwardly.

A few emotions flew across Antonio's face, but he didn't say anything, and he still held Lovino's hand.

At this point, Lovino felt the need to keep talking, and he continued, "Feli and Tino are gone. They're on vacation or whatever. So I'm alone, and I was just—stop staring at me, damn it! If you want to say something, just say it!"

Antonio sat up in an instant, and he did it so fast, Lovino almost fell backwards.

"I'd love to," he said fervently, and he held Lovino's hand tighter.

Lovino caught Antonio's sunny face and looked away. "Oh, sh-shut up," he muttered and started pushing himself up. "Let's go. I made dinner."

"You made dinner?" Antonio exclaimed, and he grinned fully.

Lovino yanked his hand from Antonio's grip and dusted his pants off. "It's not that big of a deal," he mumbled. "I make dinner all the time." That was a lie. For Lovino, cooking was an event. He planned the whole day around it, and it was always perfection. Feliciano looked forward tot hose days. But it was exhausting, and tiresome, so Lovino rarely did it.

Antonio appeared to catch onto the lie, but he didn't say anything about it; he just gave Lovino one of those small, knowing smiles and kissed his cheek.

Lovino grumbled, and grabbed Antonio's hand. He didn't like being in plain sight. "Let's just go inside already."

"Okay," Antonio murmured.

 

~/~

 

Lovino made pizza. And it was damn good pizza too. He always bragged about how his pizza was better than Feliciano, and while they were eating he gave Antonio a long and impassioned speech about it.

Lovino drank more wine than usual, Antonio noticed. He always drank a lot, but this time, maybe it was more, and maybe Antonio drank less. Because it was definitely obvious that after a while, Lovino was acting a little tipsy. And perhaps to someone who didn't know Lovino as well as Antonio or Feliciano did, Lovino's tipsy wouldn't be tipsy at all.

But to people that knew him, Lovino definitely was.

It was still Lovino,  _obviously_ —but he wasn't as quick, or dishonest, or embarrassed. He was softer, and a little more affectionate. And he reached for Antonio like he needed him, and wasn't embarrassed for the reason why.

So that was why they left half of the pizza untouched, and the dishes unclean. They found themselves hushed away in Lovino's room, like there was some grand hurry. It was led by the same anxiousness that had been latent in Lovino's eyes since he returned. So he kissed Antonio deeply and ran his fingers through his hair, heating them both and making their hearts race.

In a moment of passion, Antonio pushed Lovino onto the bed. It was an elegant and large bed, which Lovino hardly filled himself. He lied there on silk sheets and swan-feather pillows and gazed at Antonio impatiently.

Antonio grinned and crawled over him. He savored Lovino's dark and honey gaze: it had so many depths and so many emotions. Antonio could look at him forever.

Lovino gripped Antonio's shirt and pulled him down for another kiss, and his arms snaked around Antonio's back. Everything moved so fast, yet not fast enough. And all the while, it didn't exactly feel real. They didn't feel like themselves, but perhaps that was because they weren't lying for once.

"Lovi," Antonio sighed, as Lovino kissed near his jaw. "Are we…" he didn't finish the question, but it was understood anyway.

Lovino let his head fall back on the pillows again, and he stared at Antonio. He may have been buzzed, but his skin was still flushed a dark red. Quietly, he murmured, "Don't ask stupid questions."

Antonio grinned and he began unbuttoning Lovino's shirt, peppering kisses all the way.

They'd never made love to each other before, but somehow it was all so familiar. Antonio's hands were still calloused and hard, yet incredibly soft and deliberate. He had a sixth sense to intimacy. The way he held Lovino was just as he always had, as though he were holding something so precious, he couldn't believe he found. And Lovino, though a little calmer, was still surprised to be held that way, and touched Antonio tentatively.

It was electric to be together. It felt like they'd finally listened to the magnetic pull that had been there all along, and they let themselves fall together.

As the hour grew later, and their bodies were ever closer, neither of them could speak English anymore. But they kept speaking anyway. Antonio whispered Spanish, and Lovino moaned Italian until it was too much…and all they could do was breathe.

They remained tangled together, and at least one of them wondered if it was a dream.

 

~/~

 

Antonio always awoke with the sun, and this time was no different. It was barely dawn when his eyes fluttered open and closed and his arms stretched across the bed for the clock on his nightstand. Except there was no nightstand. He didn't even reach the end of the bed—and his bed was tiny.

He felt warm and smooth skin, and it took him a moment to realize there was a body flush against his chest. It took him another moment to gather the memories from last night.

Antonio was typically in a good mood when he woke up, but after he looked down at the dark auburn hair and pouting and sleeping face, he was absolutely  _euphoric._

Without thinking, he kissed Lovino's forehead and nuzzled against his hair. He had to leave for work soon, but he thought he may as well savor this feeling.

Lovino smelled like wine, mint, roses, and something a little bit burnt, like a candle. He was perfect and intoxicating, and Antonio loved the sensation of his smooth and soft skin; it was like Lovino never had a callous in his life.

After some time, and when sunlight began to spill across the bedroom, Antonio knew he had to leave.

"Lovino," he whispered, and his fingers brushed some of the dark hair. "Lovino," he called again.

There was a flash of gold-brown eyes, but they were closed in an instant and scrunched. "Bright," he mumbled.

Antonio chuckled and leaned over. " _Buenos días, mi amor_."

Lovino tried opening his eyes again and Antonio could see the memories floating across his eyes. Lovino blushed a dark and honest red. "Hi," he said.

Antonio's eyes glittered and he kissed Lovino's cheek. "It was amazing," he murmured. "And so were you."

Lovino's face was beetroot. "Shut up," he replied quickly.

"I love you too," Antonio chuckled and pressed a fast kiss to Lovino's lips. He beamed at him, and added, "I have to go."

Lovino's eyes were still dazed. "What?"

"I have to go to work."

"Oh," Lovino replied quietly, and his fingers fiddled with the sheets. They felt cool to his touch.

"Unless you want me to stay…" Antonio joked.

Lovino bit his lip and shoved weakly at Antonio's chest. "Just go you lazy bastard." After a beat, he mumbled, "I'll see you this afternoon."

"We can take a siesta together," Antonio agreed, and he caressed Lovino's face one last time. Then he rose from the bed and scavenged around the room for his clothes. He tossed them on as quickly as possible, and sat down at the edge of the bed to tie his laces. " _Adiós, tesoro_ ," he said and kissed Lovino again.

Lovino grumbled, but watched as Antonio strode towards the balcony doors. "Where are you going?" he asked and sat up on his elbows.

Antonio peered over his shoulder and flashed a smile at him. "I'm going to climb down the balcony of course."

"You fucking show off," Lovino muttered.

Antonio was laughing as he walked out the doors.

"You're not Romeo, you know!" Lovino shouted.

Antonio continued to laugh, and he hopped over the railing.

Lovino fell back onto the sheets and mumbled, "That damn idiot." He closed his eyes and wondered if he could fall back asleep.

But a few seconds later, there was a sound of a  _crack_ …

...and a slip…

…and finally a strangely loud  _thump._

Lovino never raced so quickly to the balcony. His heart jumped so fast, he didn't know if his eyes could keep steady. But he did. And he saw Antonio on the ground. 

He wasn't moving.

At all.

But for once Lovino could.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So…depending on how long next chapter is, it could be the last. Most likely, it'll be the last chapter whatever the word-count ends up being; but I may or may not add an epilogue afterwards. That depends on how it goes I guess.
> 
> In other news, I finally published The Goliath Beetle's gift fic! It was the sort of idea I needed to think through before I wrote it, so that's part of the reason why it's late (I'm so sorry!), but reason number two is I'm also incredibly lazy. Anyway, it's a fantasy sort of fic – a bit different than what I usually write for fanfiction – called The Afterport. And it has pirate!Spain (you love him and you know it) amongst other lovely things, so please check it out if you're interested! :D
> 
> Aside from that, I'll try hard to get the next/possibly last chapter out as soon as I can! Thank you so much for reading!


	12. Graciano

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it weren't for The Goliath Beetle, I would have never finished this story. So from the bottom of my heart, I thank her, and you should too :'D I'm just exhausted. But at least...this is the last chapter.
> 
> See you at the bottom :)

_Ring!_

_Ring!_

_Ring!_

Jeanne turned over and mumbled, "Mm,  _mon cher_ , I think that's for you."

Francis sighed and rubbed his forehead. "I swear if it's Antonio again…" he trailed off tiredly. "Where's the phone?" He shuffled his hand around his nightstand blindly until he found it. He pressed it to his ear, and said, "All right, Toni. What is i—"

_"FRANCIS YOU GODDAMN SON OF A BITCH!"_

The shout made him sit up in a fright. It took him a second to recognize the voice. "…Lovino? Why are you calling me? It's hardly seven in the morning."

_"Why the fuck do you think I'm calling you?! Why do you think I'm even up? Do you think I make a habit of walking around the motherfucking vineyards around this time like that damn bastard?!"_

"I don't know how I should feel about you referring to Antonio like th—"

 _"He's in the goddamn hospital you asshole! Just listen to me!"_ Lovino yelled. He sounded absolutely unhinged.  _"He fell a-and he hit the ground really hard. And, and—damn it! There was blood. And his head and his arm and his hand. And oh dio. It's my fault. I could've stopped him, because I knew he shouldn't have been climbing the fucking, goddamn vine of the balcony. I knew it. But he was…h-he was so…"_  Lovino broke off into a choked sob.

Meanwhile, Francis felt as though his entire body turned cold. His heart might've stopped beating. Jeanne was watching him worriedly from her side on the bed now.

Then slowly, Francis asked in his calmest voice, "So what are you saying Lovino?"

_"THAT ANTONIO'S IN THE MOTHERFUCKING HOSPITAL AND THEY WON'T TELL ME WHAT'S GOING ON, SO COME OVER HERE AND FIX IT, DAMN IT."_

Francis mass texted the important people, pulled on his clothes, and drove with Jeanne to the hospital. He clenched his fingers into his palm and willed himself not to cry. He couldn't yet. Not yet.

 

~/~

 

Gilbert lived closer to the hospital, so he ended up arriving near the same time Jeanne and Francis were pulling into the parking lot. Francis's hands were still shaking when he closed the car door, and he practically ran to where Gilbert was standing.

Gilbert had his phone pressed to his ear. "I'm calling Ludwig," he said evenly, and his eyes were hard. "They said they'll leave San Francisco today."

Francis felt a bit better standing between Jeanne and Gilbert. There was something solid and reaffirming about both of them. They handled these situations much better than he did.

"Let's go inside," Jeanne suggested, and she grasped Francis's hand.

He nodded his head, but said nothing, and followed behind her like a limp doll.

As he passed the beige walls, the nurses, and the sterile machinery, Francis's brain flooded with worries.

_What if Antonio was dead? Or comatose? What would he do? What would become of them? They all had their own lives now, that's true…but still. It would never be the same._

" _Mon cher_ ," Jeanne murmured and her hand held Francis's face. "Stop assuming the worst. We don't know anything yet."

Somehow, he managed a tight-lipped smile. "You're right," he replied. "Let's find Lovino."

 

~/~

 

Despite the phone call, the yelling, and the cursing, no one really knew what to expect when they found Lovino. Gilbert joined Francis and Jeanne now as they traveled through the eerie blank halls of the hospital. They were going to the emergency room. Just the sign made Francis's heart skip a beat.

Then, inside the lounge, on one of the gray-green plush benches was Lovino's small, curled figure. Usually, Lovino could hardly be described as small, there was always a certain air of intimidation that overpowered his shyness. But here and now, he just looked like a frightened, little boy.

He was bent over his knees, his head in his hands, and his fingers clawing at his scalp. For some reason, Francis felt terrified of him, so Gilbert approached him first.

"Um, Lovino," he called awkwardly, and sat down beside him. "How long has Antonio been in there?"

Lovino shook his head and his nails dug deeper. "I don't know," he replied curtly. "I can't…I don't know what's going on."

Jeanne took a seat at Lovino's other side and laid a hand on his shoulder. "What happened?" she asked gently. Her voice was a smooth as an angel.

Lovino coughed on a sob, and took some deep breaths. "He…He was leaving to go to work…a-and he th-thought he'd climb down the v-vine of the balcony," he explained slowly.

"The balcony," Francis repeated, a bit confused. "You mean the one of your bedroom? But why was— _oh_. Oh,  _merde_."

 _Those idiots,_ he thought.

Why was it Francis felt so angry and terrified at the same time? Why was his friend such a damned romantic? Why were Antonio and Lovino both so…hopeless.

Lovino lifted his head and glared at Francis with watery eyes. "It's not my fault," he said shakily.

"I didn't say that."

"You were thinking it."

Before Francis started a fight, Gilbert intervened, and said, "Have the doctors come out yet?"

Lovino's gaze flickered, and he rubbed at his tearstains. "Once. An hour ago. But they didn't say much."

Gilbert nodded and pulled out his phone. "Okay, I'll try calling Eliza. She's in family practice, but maybe she can help us learn what's going on."

Lovino fell back in his hands and his chest rocked. ""Wh-what if he's…what if?"

Jeanne rubbed his shoulder, and whispered, " _Shh_ , don't worry. We don't know anything yet. There's no use in worrying now." Jeanne laid her head near Lovino and hugged him close.

Francis wondered if he was the only one who noticed she didn't say everything was going to be okay.

 

~/~

 

When Elizaveta exited from the surgery room, her skin was pale, and her face was grave. She wasn't wearing scrubs, and was still in her white lab coat; she was just conferring with the surgeons.

Lovino stayed rooted to his seat. He was too petrified to move. And Francis lingered near him.

Gilbert and Jeanne were the ones to run up to her.

"Well," Gilbert demanded, his voice tense. "Just say something."

"You might want to keep your voice down," Elizaveta hushed him, and she gestured to Lovino and Francis with her eyes. "We want to keep them calm, all right," she whispered.

"If you're going to say something, then just fucking say it!" Lovino shouted, and he gave them a heated glare. Francis didn't look too happy either, but he was silent.

"I see what you mean," Gilbert muttered, and he scratched his neck. "Just get on with it then."

Elizaveta took a deep breath and stepped a little closer to the group. "Okay, so I'm just going to repeat to you what they told me," she began slowly. "He's in surgery now—"

"No shit. Tell me something useful," Lovino seethed. It was like he was daring someone to yell at him.

But Elizaveta was accustomed to this, and she continued just as she was. "His left arm was broken very badly. It was basically shattered, but it's not irreparable. He managed to ascertain a long gash on his right hand and forearm, probably from scratching the vine in the fall. It required stitches, but nothing major was damaged."

Everyone hardly breathed. So far the news wasn't so bad…

"Aside from that, he broke two ribs, and managed a few minor scrapes on his face and abdomen," Elizaveta said slowly. "However," she paused, and pressed her lips together. "The real problem is his head."

_No._

"He suffered a fairly severe concussion."

_God, no._

"And although they're fairly certain they've managed to stop the bleeding, we won't know the damage until he wakes up," Elizaveta explained calmly. "He could have memory loss, brain damage…" her voice trailed off ominously, but the first two suggestions were enough to settle the room with a freezing chill. "I'm sorry."

Lovino knew he should be relieved. Antonio wasn't dead, it didn't sound like he was going to die. He was, kind of, okay. But the injuries, his head…Antonio was so perfect, he was so strong and handsome and graceful. What would he be like now? It was impossible to imagine.

Antonio was absolutely perfect.

"But he'll live?" Francis asked tentatively, his voice very soft.

Elizaveta offered him a small smile. "Yes," she said. "He'll live."

But what will his life be like? What if he can't do the things he loves? What if he doesn't remember anything at all?

_Why couldn't Lovino breathe?_

He started crying again, and this time harder than before. He hated crying, and he loathed crying in front of other people, but it was incontrollable. If they hated watching, they could go fuck themselves for all he cared.

"I know how you feel Lovino," someone said. Lovino couldn't see through the tears, or hear well through his sobs. "But he's alive. Antonio's alive."

Lovino saw Francis's blurry face, and a part of his heart twisted, because he recognized that if anyone did understand. It must have been him. Gilbert was more practical about these things. And Jeanne was accustomed to it.

"I know," Lovino choked, and hot tears kept spilling. "But still, he…"

_He won't be like before._

Francis frowned, and his eyes were shining. "I know."

_Nothing will be like before._

 

~/~

 

Jeanne left at night, and brought some food for them.

They hardly touched it.

 

~/~

 

At around seven in the morning, Feli and Ludwig arrived.

Ludwig sauntered over to his brother and gave him an awkward, if not also delicate pat on the shoulder. Gilbert muttered something like "everything was going to be fine" and this and that. He was talking statistics and plans, and it was really tiring. But Ludwig listened anyway, since he knew it would calm Gilbert down.

Feli dove straight for Lovino, and they both held on tight. Feliciano was already crying – it didn't take more than five seconds – and Lovino never stopped. They were basically conjoined for an hour.

Francis loitered outside and smoked cigarettes as Jeanne spoke soft French words about the future and where they'll go.

 

~/~

 

"Lovi."

"Yeah."

"Do you remember the last time we were in the hospital? After our paren—"

"Don't talk about that."

"…Do you remember it?"

"This is nothing like that time."

"Of course not."

…

"We waited for hours."

"Shut up."

"The room looked just like this one."

"Shut up."

"I wonder if all hospitals look the same?"

"Shut up."

"I wish  _nonno_ were here."

…

"Me too."

 

~/~

 

Lovino hadn't slept.

Feli was sprawled all over the bench.

Ludwig was paralyzed, because Feli was sprawled all over the couch and his legs.

Francis reeked of cigarettes.

Jeanne was at church.

And Gilbert had had about enough.

 

~/~

 

Mornings were godsend. Each and every time.

There was something about the mornings that blessed Antonio with a preemptive zeal for the day. He couldn't remember crying the night before, or fighting with his parents, or punching Gilbert in the jaw, or running away from a bar tab…The memories didn't come right away. He was blissfully ignorant, and all he could focus on was the now, and what could be.

And there was a rhythm to waking up.

Usually the sounds would come first.

_Beep._

_Beep._

_Beep._

Then the motion. He'd turn over in bed and bury his head in the pillow…but this was different too.

At once, Antonio groaned and furrowed his eyebrows. Antonio hadn't expected a shooting pain. He didn't even understand where it came from.  _Everything_  hurt.

"Antonio?" a voice called. It was feminine, but not very soft. He knew it somehow.

But he was distracted by the pain and tiredness, and he hid himself in the pillow again. It wasn't very comfortable.

"Antonio?" she called again. There was a pause. "I think he's waking up. Call Gilbert and tell him to round them up."

Someone's footsteps left the room, and a door closed.

Antonio tried to focus on sleeping again. If he could just sleep a little bit longer…

"Antonio."

_Dios mio._

"People are waiting for you. Don't you want to wake up?" the lady asked—was it Elizaveta?

No, waking up sounded so tiring. He wanted to sleep.

"What about the vineyards? And the grapes?"

Antonio sighed, and mumbled something close to "they'll still be there."

Elizaveta laughed musically, and it sounded so relieved. "What about your friends? Francis and Gilbert?"

"They can wait," he murmured, though brightness was battling at his eyes.

"They're going to be mad at you," she warned playfully.

Antonio's lips turned up at the empty threat, and he hummed against the cushion.

A few seconds later, she asked, "What about Lovino?"

Lovino.

_Lovino._

He was dreaming of Lovino. He remembered hoping Lovino would stop by the lemon tree for their usual afternoon siesta. He was waiting for him. He must have dozed off as he waited.

At the thought of Lovino's return, Antonio's eyes unwittingly fluttered open. He was blinded by the glare of florescent lights, and closed them again. He groaned and turned on his back. He felt more pain, and he still couldn't tell where it was coming from.

"Are you in a lot of pain?" Elizaveta asked, and her tone was laced with concern.

"Yeah," Antonio mumbled, and he tried opening his eyes again. No luck. It was still too bright.

"Hold on, let me up the dose. I'll turn half of the lights off too."

"Dose," he repeated wondrously. He heard a click and felt some of the brightness fade away. He followed the sounds of the footsteps and opened his eyes again. "What dose?"

"Your pain meds," she explained, and Antonio could make out her blurry figure pressing against something. He assumed the IV. But why would there be an IV?

"Wait," he said, and his voice sounded more aware. "Where am I?"

Elizaveta was close again and she sat down in a chair beside his bed. "You're in the hospital. Do you remember what happened?"

Antonio stared at her. It was definitely Eliza's voice, and he could see the color of her hair and her eyes; but it was like everything was out of focus. It was annoying.

"Antonio?" she called again, and she snapped her fingers in front of him to call his attention. "Do you know why you're here?"

"U-um," he mumbled and his eyes squinted. If he did that, Elizaveta was a bit clearer. Not quite though. But what did she say? The hospital? "I…don't know why I'm here," he replied slowly.

"All right," she said and scribbled something down on a notepad. "What's the last thing you remember?"

Antonio took a few deep breaths as he recalled. "I was about to take a siesta near the tree. I was waiting for Lovino…" he trailed off as he struggled with the faint memory of a conversation. "I think…he might've stopped by?" It came out more as a question than a statement. "Or maybe I was dreaming," he suggested.

There was more scribbling, and Elizaveta just nodded her head.

Antonio glanced around at his body and he could faintly make out the image of a…cast? "Did I fall?" he asked a bit surprised, and tried lifting his arm. The cast started at his mid-bicep and travelled down to his wrist.

"You did," Elizaveta said. "You broke your left arm, and you have stitches on your right. You also have two broken ribs. So be careful when you move."

Antonio looked at her. Why was everything still fuzzy? Should he ask about that? Was it because of the medicine?

"Have you noticed any other problems?" Elizaveta asked suddenly.

Antonio flinched and he flashed a smile automatically. "No, not really," he said. For some reason, he didn't feel like he should say something about his eyes. It was probably just nothing. "Um, h-how did I fall?" he asked a bit hesitantly.

Elizaveta smiled at him, and patted his hand. "That doesn't really matter. It was just an accident. Besides, I think there are some people here to see you."

Antonio wanted to ask more, but before he could say anything, there was a knock at the door.

"Oh, that must be the crew," Elizaveta whistled, and she stood up from the chair. With her hand on the doorknob, she peered over her shoulder and warned, "You might want to brace yourself. They've been desperate to see you for days."

Antonio tried to sit up in the bed a bit more, and he yelped a bit in pain. "O-okay," he gasped.

But the door was already open, and his friends dashed to his side.

"Toni!"

" _Mon cher_!"

"Hey! No touching the patient!" Elizaveta shouted and both Gilbert and Francis froze before they crushed Antonio in a hug.

They started laughing awkwardly and trying to find a place where they could touch. They settled for patting his shoulder.

"Toni, how are you? How are you feeling? Do you remember who I am?" Francis asked hurriedly, and his eyes tensed with worry.

Antonio found the whole thing rather amusing and chuckled. "Of course I do."

"What about me? Do you remember me too?" Gilbert demanded.

"Yep!"

"Oh, thank god," Francis exclaimed, and he dropped his body over Antonio's lap.

"What did I say about touching the patient?" Elizaveta shouted again, and she pulled Francis up by his hair.

"Hey, is there a pen around here? I want to sign Toni's cast," Gilbert asked offhand and he shuffled around the room. "Found one."

As Gilbert busied himself with his calligraphy, Francis began sobbing into Elizaveta's shoulder.

"Francis? Why are you crying?" Antonio asked, and his voice was caught between surprise and amusement.

"Don't mind him, really. He's been a bit of an emotional wreck. I think his diet of cigarettes, wine and coffee is finally getting to him," Elizaveta explained as she held Francis's back.

"Oh, I thought you stopped smoking Francis," Antonio commented as he glanced at what Gilbert was writing.

_Gilbert the AWESOME was here first. So there._

"I'm only human!" Francis cried, and he held onto Elizaveta tighter.

Elizaveta tried pushing him away, but Francis wasn't budging at all.

When Gilbert finished writing his name, he started drawing birds all over the cast. Meanwhile, Antonio's mind kept flitting around the things Elizaveta had mentioned earlier.

"So, u-um," he began a little awkwardly, and heat rose to his cheeks. "Is Lovino…here?" he asked his question very tentatively.

"Is he here, he asks," Francis sobbed dramatically. "He hasn't left the hospital since you've been here."

Antonio's face perked up and he looked at the door. "Is he outside then?"

"He's probably still curled up on Feli's lap," Gilbert said as he capped the sharpie.

"Oh, was he very worried?" Antonio asked, and his fluttered in something between surprise and concern. What exactly happened?

Gilbert started laughing, and it sounded absolutely exhausted. "Everyone's been worried."

Antonio's eyes widened and he looked at all of his friends, and then the door. His heart beat a bit faster. "Does he want to see me?"

"Of course he does!" Elizaveta said quickly.

"He was just afraid to see you first," Gilbert explained as he started exploring around the room.

"Oh." Antonio glanced down at his hands and smiled to himself. That sounded like Lovi. He was brave, but he was also so afraid. And so shy.

Elizaveta noticed Antonio's expression and already started walking to the door. "How about I get him for you, hm? Gilbert and Francis can switch out," she proposed sweetly, as she gave stern glares to the ones in question.

"Thank you," Antonio replied, and he smiled broader in anticipation. His vision was still blurry, but it must be just the medicine.

"I'll see you in a bit,  _mon cher_ ," Francis said and he smiled genuinely on his way out.

"Take it easy," Gilbert added.

And Elizaveta followed after them. Antonio was alone.

Somehow, he felt nervous; he felt even guilty. He wondered what happened. He wondered what Lovino felt. He wondered if he forgot anything.

The doorknob turned slowly, and Antonio's heart raced.

It took seconds for the door to open, then finally it did, and familiar dark eyes found his. Lovino was frozen in the doorway, not daring to move any muscle. He didn't even breathe.

Antonio couldn't help but smile. Lovino was the same as always. He needed a little bit of help. "Lovi," he cooed, and laughed lightly. "How have you been?"

As predicted, Lovino came to life at once. He stepped in the room and slammed the door. "Shut up," he muttered, and paced around Antonio bed. He didn't settle anywhere and kept walking back and forth, occasionally glancing at Antonio over his shoulder.

Antonio watched him, but things were still blurry, and watching Lovino pace was confusing. He closed his eyes and pressed his fingers to his temple. "Lovino, can you stand still for a moment?" he asked quietly.

There was a sharp intake of breath, and Lovino's footsteps halted. "A-are you okay?" he asked tentatively. Lovino took a step forwards, but stopped again. "Is it your head?"

"Mm," Antonio sighed tiredly. "How did I even fall? Elizaveta never told me."

Silence.

Antonio slowly opened his eyes to find Lovino glaring at him.

"What?" he asked innocently.

"You don't remember." It was a statement, not a question.

Antonio wished he could make out Lovino's eyes better. His voice sounded angry, but he doubted his eyes were. "I remember taking a siesta, and I think you were there when I woke up. But that's about it…" Antonio replied slowly, as his mind tried to catch up with him. Lovino didn't respond, so Antonio continued. "Did I forget a lot?" It was still quiet, and Antonio couldn't see Lovino properly. "Lovino?"

There was a soft laugh, or maybe it was a cough, or a cry? It was hard to decipher. "You idiot," Lovino said gently. "You fell off the fucking balcony."

Antonio's lashes fluttered. "I what?"

"The balcony.  _My balcony_. You were pulling one of your Romeo stunts and the vine broke."

"Oh." It took a moment to sink in.

"You idiot."

Antonio suddenly laughed at the irony of it all. "That's kind of funny."

"It's fucking hilarious."

"Was I climbing up to meet you?" Antonio asked, as he tried to gain a picture.

Lovino was slow to respond. "You were climbing down."

There was a strange inflection to his voice. Antonio didn't understand it. "I see," he murmured, and couldn't help but chuckle again. "It really is kind of funny."

"What part of this is so damn funny to you?"

Antonio stared at his palms. He could see those clearly at least. "Well, I meant to cut the vine down when you first came here. I knew it would be a problem. But then I realized where the vine led to, and I fell in love with you, and…well, you don't find this just a little bit funny?"

At once, Lovino took fast steps forward, and was face to face with Antonio. Finally, Antonio could make out the details of his face. He didn't notice it before. Lovino's eyes weren't just dark, they were bloodshot and glistening: they looked as though he'd been awake and crying for hours. Days.

Lovino wasn't just staring at Antonio anymore, he was holding Antonio's face too. His fingers were strong and angry, but he was very cautious too. His lips were pressed together in a tight line.

"None of this is funny," he choked. His eyes were watering again. "I went through hell. I thought you were going to die. Or not walk. Or forget everything. Or become paralyzed. I thought it was my fault, because I knew you shouldn't have been climbing that fucking vine. I knew it. I told you. And I could've made you cut it down, but I didn't. I let you keep it, because I…a-and you…" Lovino trailed off, and tears were streaming down his face. "You damn bastard," he gasped and pressed his lips fervently to Antonio's.

The kiss was sloppy and salty, and uncoordinated all around, and it didn't last long before Lovino pulled away and dove against Antonio's shoulder, staining the hospital gown with his tears.

A sad, understanding smile graced Antonio's lips, and he stretched his stitched arm around Lovino to hold his back. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry I made you worry."

Lovino didn't even deny it. "I don't know what I would've done," he murmured. "I just…I—I finally…I…need you. I can't imagine—damn it, Antonio."

"Lovi, don't you think you've cried enough?" Antonio teased gently, and he pressed his face close to Lovino's hair.

"Shut up," Lovino ordered brokenly. "I'll cry as much as I want to."

Antonio laughed softly, and kissed Lovino's head. "Oh, Lovi…" he sighed. "I love you so much  _querido_."

Lovino held Antonio tighter, and his voice was very low when he replied, " _Anch'io ti amo_."

It was the first time Lovino told Antonio he loved him.

And it was Antonio's turn to cry.

_“Wine comes in at the mouth_

_And love comes in at the eye;_

_That’s all we shall know for truth_

_Before we grow old and die._

_I lift the glass to my mouth,_

_I look at you, and I sigh.”_

 

* * *

 

_Spring_

* * *

 

Lovino arrived at the vineyards early in the morning.

Feliciano had long since left; he and Ludwig moved into an apartment together as soon as Ludwig's old landowner discovered Berlitz. Tino came once a week to do some cleaning and fixing up here and there, but he no longer stayed full time; he decided to enroll in cooking classes downtown so he could begin training as a chef.

Berwald, Kiku and Ivan still shared the little farmhouse. The three of them were oddly silent and intimidating as a group, but they appeared to get along, and they continued to groom the vines together without trouble.

The main house stayed about the same. It was still just as large, and just as grand, but when Lovino walked inside after a week of being away on business, he noticed the difference. It was softer, more disorganized, less like a museum and a bit more  _alive_. The couches were mismatching, and the pillows and blankets were tossed haphazardly across. The oil paintings were coordinated with photographs now, and were scattered up the stairs all the way to the bedroom.

After Lovino dropped his suitcase at the base of the stairs—too lazy to do anything about it now—he noticed perhaps the largest change of all. He rolled his eyes.

Why was it that Antonio appeared to leak plants wherever he went?

Bouquets sat in the entryway and living room; in the kitchen there were bowls and bowls of fresh fruit and vegetables. Lovino absentmindedly grabbed an apple as he passed through and found a note sitting on top of the tomatoes.

He pursed his lips and tried to decipher the messy handwriting.

_I was waiting for you to stop by._

Lovino's lips turned up in a traitorous smile, just as he thought  _What the hell is he going on about?_

He turned the paper over, but there was nothing else, so he dropped it back on the tomatoes and strolled out of the kitchen.

There was a rose on top of the column that stood at the base of the stairs. A similar white note sat above it, and Lovino grabbed it. His cheeks were pink with curiosity.

_Do you want to make a pizza?_

"What the hell," Lovino muttered, and he tossed the note to the ground. He bit his apple and kept walking upstairs.

At the top sat a bottle of wine, and a note was taped to its side. Lovino picked up the bottle—it was one of Francis's god damn it—and looked at the note.

_You're just as sappy as I am by the way._

"What…" Lovino flushed red and threw the note to the ground. "No I am not!" he snapped and glanced around the hallway. Antonio must be hiding in their bedroom. "Antonio," he called as he stomped closer to the door.

Unsurprisingly, there was a note on the knob. Lovino bit his lip and read it.

_Do you mind if I ask one more stupid question?_

"All your questions are stupid," Lovino mumbled, and he folded the paper away. He opened the door and waltzed into the room. It was empty and cool. The bed was unmade as usual, and the doors to the balcony were wide open; the curtains waved in the breeze.

Lovino mumbled incoherently under his breath and spotted Antonio's nightstand. A pair of glasses were left untouched near a pile of books. Lovino huffed and picked them up. He set the apple down.

"You're supposed to be wearing these," he murmured, and turned the glass over.

"Lovino?"

The Spanish accent rung through the room and it made Lovino's heart race in an instant. He dropped the glasses back on the nightstand.

"Where are you?" Lovino asked as he started walking towards the bathroom.

"Hm, you'll have to find me,  _tesoro_ ," Antonio laughed. His voice echoed from the balcony, so Lovino walked there.

Even after a few months had already passed, the balcony made Lovino's palms sweat. He knew the balcony itself was stable, but it brought such an overwhelming air of fear over him. Lovino's breath was short when he stood there.

"Antonio," Lovino called, and his voice was a bit weaker. "Where the fuck are you, bastard?"

More laughter trickled around, and there was some more movement. Antonio's curly dark hair appeared by the railing, and suddenly his hands hoisted himself over. He landed on the balcony and flashed Lovino an ecstatic smile. "Ta-da!"

Lovino was sure his heart stopped beating. Blood cut off circulation to his face. "Wh-what…" then his fingers clenched into his palms. "What the fuck do you mean  _ta-da!_  What the hell are you doing?"

Antonio's eyes glittered, but he swiftly walked forward to hold Lovino's hands in his own, easing the nails from Lovino's palms. "It's okay, Lovi. I built a ladder."

Lovino glared at him. "You what?"

"A ladder!" Antonio beamed and he hurried back to the edge. "I thought about planting another vine. But that didn't seem to work out well the last time," he joked playfully. He still found the situation funny, though he never fully recalled it.

Lovino's heart panged and he turned away. "Get away from the edge, bastard. It's not safe," he muttered.

Antonio caught Lovino's expression and moved away obediently. His smile softened. "I'm sorry," he murmured.

Sadness and embarrassment colored Lovino's cheeks—he thought about that night again. He thought about it too often.

Then Antonio spoke again, and his voice was wistful. "You know I had a wonderful dream the other day."

Lovino rolled his eyes, and his shoulders slumped. "Oh really…"

Antonio's smile broadened. "You woke me up from my siesta and then made a pizza for me," he began slowly.

Lovino's body froze, and only his eyes shifted so that they could meet Antonio's.

"But we never got to finish it, which was too bad," Antonio continued, and his eyes glinted a vibrant emerald.

Lovino stared at him. He didn't dare speak. He could be wrong.

Antonio chuckled again, and he stepped away from the balcony, and closer to Lovino once again.

"I know you hate it when I ask stupid questions, but I have one more for you. Is that okay?"

Lovino felt so warm, so nervous, and so on edge. He pressed his lips together and gave Antonio a curt nod.

Antonio smiled and gently grasped Lovino's hand. He knelt down and held it in front of him.

"Um," Lovino muttered, as his ears burned self-consciously. He didn't understand exactly what was going on. His mind felt overloaded.

Antonio's thumb grazed over the top of Lovino's hand, and he looked Lovino in the eyes. "Lovino…" he began, and his hand retrieved something from his jacket pocket. It was a bundle of flowers tied together. They formed a ring. "I didn't want to borrow money from my parents for this," he chuckled a little awkwardly, and his cheeks were pink too. "B-but…I was wondering…will you marry me?"

Lovino bit the inside of his cheek. It was no use, he couldn't stop himself from smiling. "That really is a stupid question," he breathed.

Antonio grinned a bit more confidently, and slid the flowers on. "I guess I ask a lot of them," he said, and held Lovino's hand tenderly. "So…you will the—"

"Yes," Lovino interrupted, and he fell to his knees and hugged Antonio. He caressed the back of Antonio's head, over the raised scars. He grazed his lips over the warmth and sunburnt feel of the skin of Antonio's neck. He was here. Antonio was still here. And he… "You remember?" Lovino asked weakly.

Antonio's hands were around Lovino's back, and his smile rested against Lovino's shoulder. "It was amazing, Lovino," he whispered. "And so were you."

Lovino gripped Antonio's back tighter and tears bubbled near his eyes.

"Let's take a siesta this afternoon," Antonio suggested lightly.

Lovino didn't say anything, but he didn't really need to.

They took a siesta together every day.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Antonio's poor vision derived from post-traumatic vision loss (from his concussion)
> 
> \--
> 
> I can't believe it's over. I want to laugh and cry, I just can't believe it :'D I feel like I've been working on this story for much longer than it's been going on. It's been quite a journey since my initial idea back in June.
> 
> Thank you all so much for taking the time to read this story! It turned out to be a rather long one :'D Which I suppose, considering my tendencies, isn't too much of a surprise.
> 
> Also, those of you who reviewed every single chapter…you guys have a special place in my heart. You are Spamano angels sent from heaven.
> 
> And just anyone else who favorited/followed/reviewed/or just took the time to read—thank you so, so much! I'm going to be completely honest and say I am that writer that runs almost entirely on feedback xD For better or for worse, that's the truth, so to everyone who supported me, this story really couldn't have been completed without you.
> 
> Thank you all again! And I'll see you very soon! :D
> 
> (Update 08/29/16: I'm trying to get into more fandoms and write again, so I'll be hanging out on tumblr if you want to join <3 http://spinyfruit.tumblr.com)


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